


Duality

by ohthislove



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kidnapping, Language, Smut, Stalking, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:27:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 33,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohthislove/pseuds/ohthislove
Summary: Your life as Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend was pretty simple, actually. Well, as simple as things can get in Gotham. But it gets a lot more complicated when you meet Jeremiah Valeska, Jerome’s twin brother.





	1. Chapter 1

You covered your boyfriend’s eyes with your hands. “Guess who?”

You couldn’t see the smile on his face, but you could hear it in Bruce’s voice. “Hmm, let me think. (Y/N)?”

You removed your hands and sat down on the stool next to him. “Guilty as charged.” A wide grin spread over your features. “You know, for having as much training as you do, you’re rather easy to sneak up on.”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

You quirked a brow. “I don’t know. Am I?”

His lips twitched upwards in the faintest hint of a smile. “What day is it today?”

You pursed your lips playfully. “Could it be…” the corners of your lips lifted into a teasing smile, “your birthday?”

“Wow, first guess.” He grabbed a cake stand that was on the island and slid it towards you. You got up on your knees on the stool and leaned on the island with your hands to look closer at it. It was a vanilla bundt cake drizzled with frosting.

“Aw, Bruce! My favorite!” Suspicion started to slip in, and you snapped your head to look at him. “Wait, you didn’t get this cake just for me, did you?” Despite the stoic expression on his face, you could read the guilty look in his eyes. “Bruce, it’s _your_ birthday. Not mine.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t really care much about my birthday anyway. You know that.”

You sighed. It was true. You did know that. He hadn’t cared much about his birthday in recent years, but he used to… once. Before his parents’ death. You could remember a time when he would invite all his friends over to Wayne Manor, and there would be a full spread of food laid out on the dining table. He would blow out birthday candles and open presents. They would stuff their faces full of cake, frosting smeared all over their cheeks, and race around the grounds, leaving Alfred to chase after them.

But that was a long time ago. Things had changed. _Well, not everything,_ you thought. You were still here. You had been best friends with Bruce since elementary school, so it was only natural that you two would start dating. After his parents died, he stopped going to school and talking to his old friends, but, being the stubborn person that you were, you refused to give up on him. You supported him and helped him get through that tough time, and your relationship blossomed as a result. It wasn’t easy, being his girlfriend. At times it felt like all of Gotham was out to get him. But moments like this, where it was just you two in his kitchen, smiling and chatting and laughing, made it all worth it.

“Well, happy birthday.” You slid into his lap and draped your arms over his shoulders. “I’m sure we can find some way to celebrate.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. He stared up at you with a smirk on his face. “I hope that’s a promise.”

You leaned down and connected your lips in a soft kiss. Your hand ran up his neck to cup his cheek. He traced your bottom lip with his tongue, asking for entrance, and you parted your lips. Just as his tongue entered your mouth, you heard footsteps approaching from down the hall.

“Master Bruce.” You hopped out of Bruce’s lap just as Alfred walked in. You kept your head down and swiped at your mouth with the back of your hand, too afraid to look at Alfred’s face to see if he had seen or not. If he had, his voice didn’t tell it. “We have visitors.”

You did look up, however, when Jim Gordon and Lucius Fox stormed in with a sense of urgency. _Oh, great._ You leaned against the island, your shoulders slumping a bit. _Of course, on Bruce’s birthday._

“Bruce, we need your help.” Jim marched right over to the tv.

Bruce stood up and followed him. “What happened?”

Jim turned on the tv to a random news channel, and when you saw the face that came on the screen, you gasped. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room as you stared at Jerome on the tv. He had a scar running around the periphery of his face and dark circles under his eyes. His red lips were stretched into an unnatural smile, and it sent shivers down your spine at seeing his image again after who knew how long.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to keep a guy waiting?” Jerome rested his chin on his closed fist. “Bring me my hostages, James. My trigger finger is getting itchy.” He raised a gloved hand that was clutching a remote of some sorts.

Jim turned to face Bruce. “The hostages he wants are his brother and you.”

“Wait.” You pushed yourself off of the island and walked closer to them. “Jerome has a brother?”

“What?” Alfred jumped in. “You’re having a laugh. No bloody way.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do, but, Bruce, you have to trust me,” Jim begged. “Lucius and I have a plan.”

“Okay, you know what?” Jerome said, and all of our attention turned back to him. “I don’t think you’re taking me seriously enough.” He stared directly into the camera. “Well, all right. Let’s see. Eeny, meeny, miny, mo. One of these people have got to go.”

He pressed a button on the remote with his knee. You waited with bated breath for something to happen, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, you looked on in horror as a man’s head in the background exploded in a burst of flesh and blood. The tv erupted with screams, and you covered your mouth with your hand. You felt like you were going to be sick. You should’ve gotten used to violence in Gotham by now, but it still made your stomach churn.

“Oh.” Jerome pointed back at the headless body behind him. “It’s that guy.” He shrugged. “Oh, well.”

Alfred looked back at Bruce. “Did you see what just happened?” he asked in a hushed whisper. “That man’s a raving, bloody lunatic. He can’t be trusted.”

“Bruce.” You stepped forward and wrapped your fingers around his arm. “You can’t be seriously considering this.”

“Bruce, listen to me,” Jim pleaded. “With your help, we can prevent more deaths.”

There was a moment of silence as Bruce weighed his options. You kept your grip on his arm strong, chewing your bottom lip in anticipation. He sucked in a deep breath before asking, “What’s the plan?”

You and Alfred exchanged a worried glance. Lucius clicked open a briefcase he had set down on the table. “Jerome is using a short-wave radio trigger with a dead man’s switch,” Jim explained. “If we can cut the signal, he won’t be able to activate the explosives.”

“This,” Lucius held up some sort of sleek, black device, “emits a powerful signal that disables all radio waves close to it.” He handed it to Bruce. “Once within a few feet of Jerome’s device, his trigger will be useless.”

“It will give us the time for the snipers to get a clean shot on Jerome, Firefly, and the others,” Jim finished.

“If I wear this, then that gets you time to take them out?” Bruce clarified.

He nodded. “Correct.”

“Are you sure it’s gonna work?” Alfred asked.

“I’m positive.” Lucius bit the inside of his cheek. “Ninety-nine percent positive.”

Your eyes widened, and your hold on his arm tightened. “Bruce, please don’t do this.” You stared up at him, your eyes beginning to water. “It’s dangerous.”

He looked down at you, and his hand closed over yours before he shot you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, (Y/N). Everything is going to be fine.”

You sighed and let your hand slip from his arm. He always felt like the whole city of Gotham rested on his shoulders, especially when it came to Jerome.

Bruce looked back at Jim and Lucius. “What are we waiting for?” His gaze shifted to the tv. “Those people need our help.”

Jim patted him on his shoulder. “Good man.” Lucius grabbed his briefcase, and he and Jim pushed past you and Bruce on their way back down the hall.

Alfred looked awkwardly between you and Bruce. “I’ll give you two a moment then.” He kept his gaze glued to the ground as he ducked out of the kitchen.

Once you were alone, you turned to face him. “I wish you wouldn’t do this.”

His thick brows were drawn together, and his mouth was pulled taut into a straight line. “You know that I have to.” His voice was low and dark. Then, his features shifted out of his grave expression as his eyes brightened and his lips tugged into a small smile. He rested his hands gently on your shoulders and pulled you close to him, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “We can celebrate my birthday when we get back.”

_If we get back,_ you wanted to correct him, but you held your tongue. He held you against his chest, his arms draped around your waist. You grabbed onto his shoulders and rested your head on his shoulder. Behind him, you could still see Jerome’s pale face on the tv. A face you wish wasn’t so familiar.


	2. Chapter 2

The clowns and the flying trapeze performers came together as the show drew to an end. The ringmaster took his place at the front of the group before they all bowed together. The crowd erupted with applause, rising from their seats and whistling. The lights blinded your eyes, and the cheers deafened your ears, but overall, it was fun.

But more than that, the boy next to you was having fun. You could tell by the bright smile on Bruce’s face and the way the lights reflected in his brown eyes. When you heard that Haly’s Circus had come into town, you thought that it would be a good opportunity to get Bruce out of the house. Of course, after you had suggested it to him, it took a lot of convincing for him to finally agree to go with you. But he rarely ever wanted to go anywhere anymore now that his parents were gone.

You and Bruce walked out of the big top together hand in hand with the rest of the crowd, shooting each other coy smiles and nervous glances. When you came to the edge of the sidewalk, Bruce’s black town car pulled up to the curb in front of you. Bruce let go of your hand in order to open the door to the backseat. He bowed forward slightly as he gestured inside and said, “Ladies first.”

You clasped your hands together in front of you. “Thanks, Bruce, but I want to walk a little bit before I go home.”

The smile vanished from his face as his thick brows drew together and his lips twisted into a frown. Ever since his parents had died, he had become more cautious and protective over those he cared about. “Let me walk with you then.”

“I’d rather go alone.” When his expression didn’t soften, you stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll be fine, Bruce. I can take care of myself.” You looked up at him and smiled. “Please. Go.”

He exhaled and lifted a hand to caress your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. “Be careful, okay? I don’t know what I would do if…”

You shushed him and moved your hand from his arm to his shoulder. You both simultaneously leaned forward and closed the distance between your lips. The kiss was soft and sweet, but you kept it short as you pulled away.

“Bye. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You took a couple of steps back and pointed a finger at him. “Don’t worry about me.”

He let out a light chuckle and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You know I can’t do that.” He gave you one last look before climbing into the backseat of the town car. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

The door slammed shut, and you waved at him as you watched the car speed down the street. Once it was out of sight, you started walking aimlessly down the sidewalk. You didn’t really have a destination; you just needed to clear your head. On nights like this, where it felt like you were being torn apart from the inside and your mind was heavy and clouded, you just wanted to get lost amongst the crowd of nameless and faceless people until you became one of them yourself. You didn’t know what it was, but every once in a while, when the sun slipped below the horizon and the stars came out, this dark feeling would settle deep in your gut, and all you wanted to do was push everyone close to you away and disappear.

You found yourself wandering into the grounds behind the big top where all the performers’ trailers were parked. It was pretty empty, just a few people here and there. Most of the performers were coming back from the show and heading to bed. No one seemed to really register your presence or that you shouldn’t be there, which you were grateful for.

You were dragged out of the state you were in when you heard the telltale sounds of a struggle. You stopped in your tracks and slowly rounded the corner of a trailer when you saw where the noises were coming from. A woman who reeked of alcohol was standing in the doorway of the trailer, teeth bared. She had the collar of a redheaded boy in one hand, lifting him off of his feet, and she was boxing his ear with the other.

“What is wrong with you?” she growled over the boy’s yelps. “Don’t you know that when I ask for a beer, you give me a beer?” The boy cried and tried to kick at the woman, but he gave up and let his legs dangle.

The scene made your heart rate pick up and the sound of blood rushing fill your ears. You stood stock still as all of your limbs seized up. You were frozen in place watching on as the woman ruthlessly beat the helpless boy. You shook yourself out of your trance. No, you had to do something. You weren’t helpless, not anymore.

Without a second thought, you bolted towards the pair and wrapped your arms around the boy’s torso. “Leave him alone!” You pulled him backwards, yanking him out of the woman’s grasp. She lost her balance and nearly tumbled down the steps leading to the trailer.

She grabbed onto the wall of the trailer to steady herself. When she lifted her head, her gaze settled on you, her eyes burning with anger. “Don’t you know to stay out of other people’s business?”

She started towards the two of you, and the boy clung to you for dear life, shaking like a leaf. “Don’t come any closer!” you shouted. “I’ll call the cops!”

The woman slowed to a halt, wavering on her feet. She was clearly intoxicated, and from the look on her face, she knew it would be pointless to fight you. She shifted her gaze to the boy holding onto you, and the fire returned. “Jerome, when you’re done with all this nonsense, find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

She stomped up the steps to the trailer and slammed the door behind her with a resounding bang. There was a moment of silence as the boy stepped away from you, swaying slightly and gasping for breath. He turned away from you before you could get a good look at his face.

“Do you want to call the cops?” you asked after a while, unsure of your voice. “I can go with you to the police station, if you want.”

“Don’t bother,” he finally spoke, and his voice was a lot lower than you had expected it to be. He turned around, and at last you could see the damage done to him. One of his blue eyes was shiny and swollen, a blue and purple bruise blossoming across his pale skin. A stream of red blood that complimented his hair dribbled out of his nose and down his chin. “You shouldn’t have stepped in. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

You furrowed your brow. “But you were getting hurt.”

“I’m used to it.” He gave a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, as if you were discussing the weather. He extended a hand to you. “I’m Jerome, by the way.”

You took his hand, and tingles rolled down your spine when your skin made contact with his. “(Y/N).” You shook his hand. His grip was surprisingly strong, and his skin was cold. You retracted your hand. “So, are you a performer?”

He shook his head. “No, but my mother is.” He jutted his chin in the direction of the trailer. _So that woman was his mother?_ “She’s a snake dancer.”

“She wasn’t in the show tonight.”

“No, she was too busy getting drunk and fooling around with her new boy toy.” He laughed it off, but there was an edge to his voice.

You dug the toe of your shoe into the ground awkwardly. “Do you have somewhere else you can stay tonight?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I think Mr. Cicero will let me stay with him.” He tilted his head to the side. “Are you going to be able to make it out of here safely?”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself to shield you from the cold. “Yeah.” Your eyes raked over his form. You deduced he would look handsome when he wasn’t so bloody and bruised. You blinked rapidly, erasing the thought from your head.

“Thanks for saving me.” He didn’t look you in the eyes. “But let’s not make a habit of it.”

He started to walk away, hobbling slightly. “Jerome?” you called after him, and he slowly skidded to a halt.

He looked over his shoulder at you. “Yeah?”

You swallowed roughly. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that, you know.”

He clenched his jaw, his gaze glued to the asphalt under his feet. “She’ll get what’s coming to her. Someday.” Then, he turned his back to you and continued to leave. You watched him weave through the labyrinth of trailers until you could no longer make out his form in the distance.

You decided to get out of there before the woman could change her mind and come back. You emerged from the pack of trailers and back onto the sidewalk. You took out your phone to call your town car to come get you. Your little walk hadn’t lessened the feeling in your gut in the slightest; in fact, it had only increased tenfold. _Maybe I just need some sleep,_ you told yourself. The feeling would be gone by the time the sun rose and light shined in through your bedroom windows.


	3. Chapter 3

“I watch the news. I know why you’re here, Mr. Gordon,” the Valeska twin picked up a crystal glass and poured himself a serving of whiskey, straight, “and you must be out of your mind if you think I’m gonna be led like a lamb to slaughter.”

“I understand your concern, but your brother doesn’t bluff.” Jim moved forward. “If we ignore his demands, there’s no telling what he might do.”

“We can block his remote signal with this.” Lucius handed the same device from earlier to Jim.

“If you and Bruce can get within a few feet of him,” Jeremiah interrupted Jim with a scoff, but he continued, “it will disable his remote. He’ll be a sitting duck. Our snipers can take it from there.”

Jeremiah swallowed a mouthful of whiskey. “For God’s sake, Gordon. You have to know what he wants: to murder us both on live television.” He gestured to himself and Bruce with the glass in his hand.

Bruce walked around the other side of the table so he was behind Jeremiah. “Mr. Valeska, I’m Bruce Wayne.” He extended a hand to him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He turned around to look at Bruce and hesitated a moment before shaking his hand. “Likewise. I wish the circumstances were better.”

“May I ask what it is you’ve been working on?” Bruce looked at the intricate blueprints pinned to the wall.

“Um, yeah.” He gestured to the model of some sort of complex machine on the table. “It’s a compact electrical engine. It generates power.”

“Fascinating.” Bruce’s eyes were alight as he stared at the model. “How much power?”

“Just two could light up every building south of Westward Bridge.”

Bruce looked up at him. “You have a brilliant mind, and we all hope we can soon be rid of your brother so that you can carry out your work free from fear.” He paused. “I understand if you choose not to help us today, but I trust that Captain Gordon and Mr. Fox will see that no harm comes to me. But, even if it does, maybe by facing Jerome, I can show the people of Gotham that standing up to terror is the only way to take its power away.”

Bruce had that heroic look on his face he so often got. _He always has a way with words._ And from the slight laugh that escaped from Jeremiah’s lips, he knew it, too. “Well said.”

Jim’s phone started ringing, and he stepped away to answer it. “(Y/N), are you okay?” Bruce asked.

At Bruce’s words, Jeremiah’s gaze shifted to you, and his eyes locked with yours. You felt like you were looking at a ghost. In a way, you kind of were. Jeremiah was the spitting image of the Jerome from long ago, save the glasses. He had the same red hair, pale skin, blue eyes, and red lips. Of course, he was more timid than Jerome, more bookish, but he had that same air of condescending superiority about him that was a Valeska trademark.

You sucked in a breath as his heavy gaze raked over you. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered Bruce.

“Come here. Meet Mr. Valeska.” Bruce draped an arm around your shoulders and brought you forward. “Mr. Valeska, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

You forced the frightened look out of your eyes and a smile on your lips. “It’s nice to meet you.” You held out your hand to him.

The corners of his lips curled into a smile. “It’s very nice to meet you too.” He took your hand, sending tingles down your spine. _Good grip, cold skin._ “How long have you two been together?”

You let Bruce answer as you retracted your hand. “About four years now.” He pulled you closer into his side and smiled down at you. “But we’ve been friends since we were children.”

“How sweet.” But there was something about Jeremiah’s smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his grip on the glass in his hand tightened. If you weren’t creeped out before, you definitely were now.

Your attention was drawn to Jim as he started speaking louder to whoever was on the other side of the line. “The gas. Penguin told me about a new Scarecrow toxin. Head over to the lab. We’re on our way to the Square.” He clicked his phone shut and rejoined the group. “They’ve got a weapon. Poison gas.”

Jeremiah pulled on his burnt orange suit jacket. “Okay. Let’s go.”

As the others started to file out of the room, Bruce turned to you. “Once we get back to the city, call your town car to take you home.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you kidding? No way am I leaving. I’m staying with you.”

“(Y/N), it’s not safe,” he insisted. “I’m not going to let you get hurt.”

“And I’m not going to let you get hurt either,” you shot back. “You can do this if you want, I know I won’t be able to stop you, but I’m going to be there. You’re not getting rid of me.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “All right. But the second there’s even a slightest chance you could get hurt, you leave, understand?”

You smiled and cupped his cheek with your hand. “It’s not me you should be worrying about.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his other cheek, and when you pulled away, you saw Jeremiah in the doorway and gasped.

“Are you guys coming?” He leaned in the doorway and jabbed a thumb behind him. “We’re ready.”

“Yeah, we are.” Bruce intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you alongside him. “Come on.”

You bit the inside of your cheek when you passed Jeremiah in the doorway, your body brushing up against his due to the close proximity. He just smiled down at you, and you felt that familiar sinking feeling in your gut. Something about him made you uneasy.

_No,_ you thought. _He’s not Jerome. He’s a good, smart person._ You were being paranoid. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something about him was not quite right.


	4. Chapter 4

“Why are we waiting?” Jerome yelled into a mic while playing an electric guitar clumsily. His henchmen danced behind him. “Waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting! Someone’s gonna die!”

You fell behind Bruce, Lucius, and Jim as you made your way towards the stage. Jerome’s voice filled your ears, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. You kept your head down as you moved through the crowd, your gaze trained on Bruce’s shoes in front of you.

“You know him, don’t you?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the voice next to you. You lifted your head to see that Jeremiah had fallen in step beside you. “What are you talking about?” You stared at him with wide eyes.

He jutted his chin out at the man onstage. “Jerome. You know him.”

You furrowed your brow. “So do Bruce, and Jim, and Lucius. We all do.”

“But not like you do.” He shook his head. “I could tell by the way you looked at me back there. You knew him before he was all,” he gestured vaguely to Jerome, “this.”

“I met him at the circus once.” You shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“Well, thank you for being here.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his overcoat. “I know how hard this must be for you.”

“Please, you’re his brother. I barely know him.” But for some reason, the way Jeremiah was staring at you told you that he knew you were lying.

The guitar suddenly stopped, drawing your attention to the stage, and you looked up to see that Jerome had noticed Jim, Lucius, Bruce, and Jeremiah making their way towards him. “Well, look who decided to show up. We were starting to get nervous, especially the mayor here.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the mayor strapped to a chair behind him, an odd-looking contraption around his neck. “My guest of honor. Please, take your seats on stage.”

Jim put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder and gave him a look that said, _it’s time to go._ Bruce looked back at you. “Stay behind Jim and Lucius at all times, okay? And no matter what, don’t move.”

You nodded, grabbing his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. His hand slipped from yours as he started to march forward. As promised, you stood behind Jim and Lucius. Their gazes shifted to Jeremiah, who was standing frozen in place.

“Come on,” Jerome encouraged them. “Don’t be shy.”

Jeremiah looked at Jim expectantly. “It’s all right,” he murmured. Then, Jeremiah settled his gaze on you. You gave him a silent nod and flashed him a smile.

He returned it before facing forward. He sucked in a deep breath before walking towards the stage on shaky legs, putting one foot in front of the other. “We don’t have all day,” Jerome continued.

Your heart leapt in your chest as you watched Bruce and Jeremiah shove their way through the crowd. Jerome stared at them with a sinister grin on his face, and you couldn’t help but feel like they were walking straight into the jaws of an alligator. “It’s activated. Just let them get a little closer,” you heard Lucius whisper to Jim.

Jim lifted his walkie-talkie to his mouth. “On my command.”

With every step closer to Jerome they got, the more the sound of your heart hammering against your ribcage filled your ears. Jerome leaned in close to the mic and said, “Hi, brother.” His sickening smile grew even wider at the nervous expression on Jeremiah’s face.

They were about ten feet away when Lucius hissed at Jim, “Now!”

Jim clicked a button on his walkie-talkie and spoke into it, “Fire! All targets, fire!”

You squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, waiting for the deafening sound of gunfire. Two shots rang out and echoed off of the brick walls. The crowd screamed, and you felt a hand latch onto your arm and pull you down. When you opened your eyes, you were ducking with the rest of the crowd, and Jim was next to you, holding onto you. But Jerome was still standing onstage unharmed. What caught your eye were the two places where snipers had been moments before, now splattered with blood.

“I had my guys take out the best vantage points last night.” Jerome clasped his hands behind his back. “So they’ve been watching your little SWAT team all day.”

The crowd slowly rose to their feet, and your eyes widened in alarm as realization washed over you. _Oh, my God. There’s nothing stopping Jerome from harming them now._

“Now, Bruce, brother dear!” He beckoned them to him. “Get up onstage! It’s time to get this party really started, huh?”

Bruce and Jeremiah once again continued their journey towards the stage. “Stop!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, pushing through Jim and Lucius.

Everyone’s heads swiveled to look at you as you surged forward. “(Y/N), no!” Bruce hissed.

Jerome’s gaze landed on you. “(Y/N).” The expression on his face softened for a second before his menacing grin returned. “You brought me a present.” He tilted his head. “You know what? Because you were so generous as to bring her here, I am willing to trade. Billionaire boy Bruce Wayne and my dear brother,” his eyes were dark as he stared at you, “for her.”

Bruce’s thick brows furrowed. “What do you want with her?”

He rolled his eyes. “None of your business, Bruce.”

He stepped protectively in front of you. “Well, you can’t have her.”

“Really? I thought that was a fair trade.” He sighed. “Fine, guess I just have to make things easy for you. She comes up onstage right now or one of these people,” he pointed behind him at the people bound to chairs, “dies.”

You started forward when Bruce wrapped his fingers around your arm. He pulled you back to him. “(Y/N), I can’t let you do this.”

“I have to, Bruce. There are lives at stake.” You tugged on your arm, but his grip held firm.

“I promised I wouldn’t let you get hurt.” You could see his eyes start to water. “We’ll find some other way to stop him.”

“Hurry up, lovebirds,” Jerome said, drawing your attention to him. “I’m getting impatient.”

“I’m coming, Jerome.” You looked back at Bruce. “What was it you said earlier? ‘I can show the people of Gotham that standing up to terror is the only way to take its power away?’” He nodded sorrowfully, and you smiled at him. “Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

“Tick, tock, tick, tock! I don’t have all day!” Jerome crowed. His vision narrowed in on you. “Come on, (Y/N). You know I don’t like to ask for things twice.”

You covered Bruce’s hand with yours and gave it a quick squeeze before moving away from him. You walked towards Jerome like you were walking towards your own grave until you reached the edge of the stage. He leaned down and extended a gloved hand to you. You didn’t like the pleased expression on his face. You hesitated for a second, staring up at his hand, before resting your palm on his.

“Good girl,” he praised, and his words of approval sent shivers down your spine. He helped you onto the stage and dragged you over to an empty chair. He pressed down on your shoulders until you were forced to sit down. “Now, stay still for me while I tie you up.” He winked. “But I know you will, won’t you?”

You shot daggers at him. You didn’t move as he secured your feet and hands to the chair, focusing on your boyfriend’s face in front of you. His eyes were glued to you; he didn’t take his gaze off of you for a second, not even to blink. You offered him a weak smile and blinked away the tears threatening to spill. You were shaking, but you didn’t want him to know that. You wanted him to think you were strong; you didn’t want to give him another reason to worry.

Jerome finished by placing a collar with bombs strapped to it around your neck. “Ta-da!” He took a step back and admired you like you were a piece of art. “You know, I have to say thank you, (Y/N).” He put his hands on his knees and leaned forward until your faces were an inch apart. “You just made this a lot more interesting.”


	5. Chapter 5

“No parent will admit it, but everyone’s got their favorites.” Jerome looked out at Jeremiah in the audience. “Right, brother? The one who cleans their room, does their homework, doesn’t try to kill everybody. Little Mr. Perfect here.” He pointed at him. “Yeah, he was that guy.”

Jerome was sitting behind you with his legs dangling over the arm of your chair and a hand on your shoulder, the other gripping the mic. “He got adopted by rich folks. He went to the top schools, then a top college. Meanwhile, I got dragged through the circus by my depressed, alcoholic mother, forced to clean up elephant dung everyday.”

You could hear a man out in the audience heckle, “Who cares?”

“Do you know how big those things are, folks?” he replied. “But I know something that Mommy and Daddy, they never knew.” He narrowed his eyes at Jeremiah. “You’re as crazy as I am.”

Jerome’s words struck you to the core as you looked at Jeremiah’s pale face. Could your instincts have been correct and there was something out of place about him? “It’s in your DNA,” Jerome continued. “See, we got the same blood running through us. We are practically identical. You are a killer; it’s your nature. Stop trying to fight it.”

You stared at the frightened look on Jeremiah’s face and cursed yourself for being so ridiculous. There was no way he could be the man Jerome was making him out to be. “Stop it, Jerome.” Your voice sounded surprisingly firm, which was the opposite of how you currently felt.

He switched his attention to you. “Which brings us to you, my dear.” He ran a gloved finger down your face, and you shuddered. You wanted to move away from him, but couldn’t with the way you were strapped to the chair. “It’s been a long time, (Y/N). I think the last time I saw you was, God, before I died.” He erupted with laughter. “I know you told me to leave you alone, but I never quite lost tabs on you. That’s how I found out you were dating everybody’s favorite rich orphan, Bruce Wayne.” He looked pointedly out in the crowd at Bruce.

“Don’t you dare hurt her!” he shouted.

“Well, I must admit, you’ve done a pretty good job at keeping her out of harm’s way so far all things considered, Bruce.” Jerome grabbed you by the chin. “It makes me wonder if he knows how well we know each other, (Y/N).” He moved from behind you so that he was kneeling next to you. “If he knows how you were hurt just like me, how we are more alike than we are different.”

You looked out into the crowd, and you wished you could wipe the confused and hurt look on Bruce’s face out of your mind. Jerome’s hand on your chin turned your head so you were forced to look at him. “The same darkness that’s inside me is inside you, (Y/N).” He leaned in until his face was a hairsbreadth from yours. “I wonder what it will take to make it come out.”

This close, you could see how horrible Jerome’s appearance had become. Dark red and purple veins were prominent beneath his pale skin, and his face was littered with multiple scars. “You don’t have to do this, Jerome.” You kept your voice at an even level. “Let these people go. Let me go.”

He cackled. “Oh, sweetheart. That’s not going to work on me anymore.” His nose brushed against yours. “I’m never letting you go again.” Your eyes widened when you realized he was going to kiss you. You backed away from him as much as your restraints would allow, squirming and twisting in your seat.

Everyone froze as more shots rang out. Screams filled the air, and Jerome’s head turned to see his henchmen on the rooftops get shot down and collapse. He stood up straight and noticed that Jim had snuck up to the corner of the stage. He raised his gun and shot Jerome in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground.

Firefly aimed her flamethrower at Jim, scaring him off. Bruce ran forward and jumped up onstage. He rushed to you and managed to untie your hands and feet before Firefly turned her attention to him. Before she could get her finger on the trigger, Bruce grabbed onto her flamethrower, and they started wrestling for it.

Jerome rolled over onto his back and looked up at the mayor. He clicked a button on the remote in his hand, but nothing happened. He pressed it again, and still when nothing happened, he started slamming it repeatedly. “Screw it,” he growled and chucked the remote.

Jerome sat up and locked eyes with you. You froze in between him and Bruce, unsure of what to do. However, when Jerome scrambled to his feet, you decided to run for it, but you didn’t get to the edge of the stage before his hands were on you.

He pulled your back flush against his chest, and you felt a sharp point press into the skin of your throat. Bruce knocked out Firefly and whirled around to find you with a knife held to your neck. “One step closer, and she get’s sliced open.”

You flashed him a weak smile. “It’s okay, Bruce. I can handle this.”

The look of fear in Bruce’s eyes changed into pure rage as he stared down Jerome. “If anything happens to her, Jerome, I swear to God…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.” He ran his free hand through your hair, and you swallowed roughly, causing the blade to press further into your skin. “Let’s go, princess.” He moved the hand that was in your hair to yank your arms behind your back. He dragged you off of the stage with him.

“I’ll save you, (Y/N)!” Bruce called after you. “I’ll save you, I promise!”


	6. Chapter 6

Jerome released your hands for one brief moment to get out his phone. He held it up to his mouth and hissed, “Get into position!”

You considered dashing for a second until you felt the knife shift against your throat. He pressed it into your skin not enough to draw blood, but just enough to sting. “Don’t try anything funny, princess. We’ve got a cop on our tail.”

He dragged you down an alleyway with him. He pushed open a back door to a building leading to a winding staircase. He kept the blade against your neck as he took you up the stairs with him. His chest heaved from being out of breath, and his skin grew paler by the second. The blood stain in his jacket where he had been shot through the shoulder became larger and larger.

You reached the top floor and he slammed open a door leading to the roof. He pulled you along behind him as he navigated through clotheslines strung across the rooftop. You ducked to keep from getting smacked in the face by wet clothes. He abruptly stopped at the edge of the roof, and you would’ve crashed into him if it weren’t for his hands on you. From here, you could tell you were several stories up, and you had a perfect view of the Gotham City skyline. You were trapped; there was no where else for you to go.

“It’s over, Jerome,” you told him. “They disabled your bombs. Bruce has already untied your hostages. Jim is going to catch us up here. You might as well do yourself a favor, let me go, and turn yourself in.”

“Oh, it’s not over yet.” He turned you around so you were facing him. “A blimp full of laughing gas is heading for Gotham Square right now. You were just a distraction, honey. Once it’s in position and I say the words, thousands will be infected all over Gotham!”

You blinked back tears. “No,” you shook your head in denial, “they’ll find some way to stop you. You’ll never win.”

He chuckled and lifted your wobbling chin with the edge of the blade. “Face it, sweetheart. I’ve already won.”

You heard the cock of a gun, and both of your heads swiveled to see Jim standing with his pistol aimed at Jerome. “Step away from her!”

In a flash, Jerome pulled you again so your back was flush against his chest. The knife was once again at your throat. “Go ahead.” He stepped up on the edge of the roof and took you with him. You let out a yelp and clutched onto his arm around your waist to steady yourself. “Either way, both of us are going down.”

All three of you looked up as a loud whirring filled your ears. A giant, silver blimp displaying the words _AIR GOTHAM_ hovered threateningly above your heads. “Beautiful, isn’t she?” Jerome said. “And I’m not just talking about the blimp.” He winked and moved the blade against your neck, earning a whimper from you.

“Let her go, Jerome.” Jim’s voice was low and gruff. “This is between us.”

“(Y/N) and I go way back, further then we do, Jim.” Jerome took the knife away from your throat, and you gasped for air. “Just give me a second.” He put the knife away and took out his phone. “Gotta call the pilot, tell him he’s in position.”

He barely managed to dial the number before Jim shot the phone out of his hand. You made a noise of surprise, and Jerome groaned. The phone landed next to his foot, teetering on the edge of the rooftop. “Not cool.”

“Jerome?” you heard a voice coming from the phone. “Jerome, I’m in position.”

He looked down at the phone before looking up at you. He laughed. “Doesn’t matter.” He stepped away from you and pushed you so you fell back onto the rooftop on your hands and knees. “Too late anyway.”

You flipped over and leaned back on your hands. You stared up at Jerome. He gave you one last look before yelling at the phone, “Bombs away!”

“Jerome, don’t!” you shouted, but you were cut off by the sound of a gun firing.

Blood leaked out of the bullet hole in the middle of Jerome’s stomach. He looked down at it, then up at you. The corners of his lips curled into a grin. “Funny.” He chuckled and fell backwards, disappearing over the edge.

“No!” you screamed and scampered for the edge. You peered over to see Jerome clinging to a metal pole sticking out of the side of the building, ten floors of open air beneath his feet. You let out a sigh of relief and reached for him. “Quick, let me pull you up!”

He let out a slight laugh. “You still care about me. How sweet.”

“Jerome, grab my hand so I can pull you up,” you insisted, your voice tinged with urgency.

“And why should I?” He quirked a brow. “Maybe you should let me fall. I deserve it, don’t I? After all the people I’ve hurt?”

You shook your head. “No one deserves to die.”

 _“Au contraire,_ my dear.” His voice sounded forced, and you knew he was struggling. “Maybe this is what you need to unleash the darkness inside of you.”

“You’re really willing to bet your life on that?” you challenged him.

“I am.” He adjusted his grip so he wasn’t clutching onto the pipe anymore; he was merely dangling from it now. “You’re going to carry on my legacy. And if you don’t, my brother will.”

 _Jeremiah._ You took your bottom lip between your teeth. You couldn’t think about him right now. You needed to save Jerome. “Jerome, stop joking around and give me your hand! I’ve watched you die once, I’m not going to do it again!”

He chuckled. “Oh, sweetheart, but that’s what I do best.” His gloves were starting to slip, and he gave you one last sinister grin. “I’ll be seeing you soon. _Au revoir!”_

You let out a bloodcurdling scream as he let go. But his cackling was louder, and it was like time slowed down as you watched Jerome plummet to his death. Then, the laughing stopped, and you heard the crunching of metal and glass. The sound of a car alarm blaring filled the air.

“Oh, my God.” Your knuckles turned white from clutching the edge of the rooftop so hard as you stared down at Jerome’s lifeless, bloody body on top of a car. “Oh, my God.” You pushed yourself away from the edge and hugged your legs to your chest. You buried your face in your knees and rocked yourself back and forth. “Oh, my God, oh, my God.”

You felt a hand on your shoulder and looked up through your tear-filled gaze to see Jim kneeling next to you. “It’s okay, (Y/N). You’re safe now.”

You wanted to tell him that your safety wasn’t the one that mattered, but you couldn’t find the words. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest. You wet the shoulder of his suit jacket with your tears. “It’s all right,” he soothed you. But you couldn’t get the image of Jerome’s dead body out of your head, and you couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling twisting deep within your gut.


	7. Chapter 7

A month passed by since that night at the circus, and your life went back to normal. Your relationship with Bruce continued to develop as you supported him, but you kept thinking about the mysterious boy Jerome you had met. You also couldn’t shake the feeling that there was someone watching you every now and then. Late at night, when you were awake in your bed and everything was quiet, you felt like there were eyes on you. But you chalked it up to paranoia and didn’t fret over it too much.

You knocked on the doorway leading to the living room in Wayne Manor. “Knock, knock.” You peered around the corner to smile at Bruce sitting at what used to be his father’s desk, surrounded by piles of paperwork. You took a step inside. “Whatcha doin’?”

He held up a piece of paper and studied it before jotting something down in a journal. “Investigating Wayne Enterprises. I know there’s something wrong, somewhere.” He sighed and let go of the paper, leaning back in his chair. “Please, distract me.”

You grinned as you walked over to him, your hands clasped behind your back. You pushed aside some papers before sliding onto his desk. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” You looked down at some random files. “What if they decide to cut you out from inheriting the company when you turn eighteen?”

“They can’t do that; it’s my namesake.” He flipped through a manila folder before setting it down.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth; you weren’t as sure as he was. “Well, when do you think you’ll be done with all this? ‘Cause I was thinking we could climb into bed, have Alfred make us something, and watch a movie.”

He stood up from his chair. “You know what? I think I deserve a break.”

You swung your legs back and forth. “For how long?”

“For as long as you want.” He leaned on his hands on either side of your legs and pressed his lips to yours. You let your hands run through his raven locks and moaned into the kiss. You were just about to deepen it when your phone started buzzing in your pocket.

You groaned as you pulled away from him. “Just give me a second, okay?” He nodded, breathless and flushed, as you dug your phone out of your pocket. You glanced at the screen. It was a number you didn’t recognize, but you decided to answer it anyway. You hit accept and held your phone up to your ear. “Hello?”

“You’re my one call,” a low, gruff voice said straight into your ear.

The smile vanished from your face, and your heart sunk to your stomach. You could recognize the voice; it was the same one that had been haunting you for the past month. You pressed your phone against your chest and tried to hide your fear as you said to Bruce, “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” He nodded.

You hopped off his desk, and he went back to sorting through miscellaneous sheets of paper. You padded out of the room, and as soon as you were out in the hall, you held your phone back up to your ear. “Jerome?” Your brow furrowed as realization set in. “How do you know my number?”

He chuckled, and it sent shivers down your spine. “I know a lot of things about you: where you live, what school you go to, how you like to sleep on your stomach at night with one leg out of the covers.” You felt frozen in place; your suspicions had been right. Someone _had_ been watching you. “But that’s a conversation for another time. I got into a little bit of trouble.”

You leaned against the wall. “What happened?”

“I murdered my mother.” Your blood ran cold through your veins at how easily he said the words. “I almost got away with it with Mr. Cicero’s help, but that damn cop Jim Gordon was too hard to fool. Turns out, Mr. Cicero is my father.” He cackled, and your pulse quickened. He didn’t sound like the same boy you had met a month ago. He sounded different, changed. “Anyway, now they’re sending me to Arkham. They think I’m crazy or something. But if they knew the truth, how badly she had treated me, they would understand why I did what I did.” He paused. “You understand, don’t you, (Y/N)?”

Your heart beat against your ribcage. “Why… why would you think that?” you stammered.

“Because you’ve been hurt before too, haven’t you?” There was a playful tone to his voice. “I could see it in your eyes when you saved me that night. Someone hurt you, just like how my mother hurt me.”

You sucked in a breath. “My father wasn’t a good man. He used to hurt me and my mom a lot, but she divorced him and then he moved away.” You gripped the phone tighter in your hand. “Jerome, I know how it feels to want to hurt someone who hurt you, but violence only breeds more violence. You’ll move past this, and things will get better.”

“Not all of us are as lucky as you, (Y/N). Some of us don’t have a way out.” The teasing hint to his voice was gone. “I would’ve rotted in that circus for eternity if I hadn’t have taken fate into my own hands, if I hadn’t have done something.” There was a pause, and the sickeningly cheery tone was back. “But not everything goes away, now does it, (Y/N)? The darkness always stays. No matter how much you push it down, it resurfaces. It stays a part of you forever.”

Your hand was shaking now. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he growled. “My mother deserved what I did to her. She was a lowlife whore who cared more about getting drunk and getting laid than her own son. The scum of the Earth deserves to get purged.” His voice was impossibly dark. “It felt good to sink my hatchet into her body, (Y/N). To hear her scream, watch the blood ooze out of her.” He whispered directly into your ear, “I wish you would’ve been there to see it.”

You felt a single tear roll down your cheek, and you swatted it away with the back of your hand. “You’re scaring me, Jerome.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart!” He laughed, and it unsettled you even more. “I hope you know I would never hurt you.”

“Why did you call me, Jerome?” You kept your voice low so Bruce couldn’t hear you in the other room. “Why did you call me of all people?”

He sighed. “If I’m being honest, doll, it’s because you’re the only one who cares for me, the only one who truly understands me. When you saved me a month ago, I knew you were special. I couldn’t get you out of my head, so that’s why I started following you around…”

You chewed on your bottom lip. If Jerome really believed what he was saying, maybe he would listen to you. Maybe you could talk some sense into him and steer him onto the right path before he continued to spiral even further. You could save him again. “When will you be transferred to Arkham?”

“About a week or so.” He sounded taken aback. “Why?”

You hesitated before saying the next words, like you were making a deal with the devil. “I’ll come visit you, okay? We can continue talking then, but I have to go. Please try to stay out of trouble.”

You could hear the smile in his voice. “Oh, (Y/N). You won’t regret it.”

“I already do.” You ended the call and meandered back into the living room.

Bruce looked up from where he was sitting on the antique sofa, a drink in hand. “That took a while. Who was it?”

“Oh, just my mom. She needs me home for dinner.” You walked over to him and placed your hands on his shoulders, softly kissing his forehead. “I’m sorry to take you away from your work. We’ll do this another time, yeah?”

He dismissed you with a wave. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He grabbed your hand and gave it a quick squeeze before letting go.

You flashed him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Bruce. See you tomorrow.” You turned around, your smile immediately dropping. You walked away from him and felt that familiar empty feeling settle in your chest, where it would hang over you like a rain cloud for the next week.


	8. Chapter 8

They crowded around Jerome’s dead body like vultures circling a carcass. “Never thought I’d see this,” a woman said while poking him in the side.

“He sure is dead.” A man lifted his hand before dropping it. It fell right back into place, lifeless.

“I can’t believe it. Is he?” another man asked.

“Yeah,” the first man confirmed.

“Get back!” Jim’s voice cut through the mumbling surrounding Jerome. “GCPD! Everybody get back!”

The crowd dispersed as Jim charged forward, Harvey not too far behind him. They had left to go make sure Gotham Square was secure before returning for Jerome, but you, you had been there since the moment you had enough to strength to stand without falling over. You had stood there as the sun sank below the horizon and the sky turned dark, staring at the smile frozen on Jerome’s face and pulling your coat tighter around you as the cold nipped at your skin.

You heard the sound of glass crunching under the soles of shoes next to you, and you turned to see Bruce joining your side. You didn’t know what to do or what to say. You merely lowered your head and stared at the drops of blood staining the asphalt.

“Are you okay?” he asked you after a while.

“As okay as a hostage victim can be,” you responded.

“Sorry. Maybe that was the wrong question.” Bruce fidgeted nervously out of the corner of your eye.

You finally met his gaze. “No, I’m sorry. I guess I’m just still a little shaken up.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. “I’m just happy you’re okay.”

You reveled in his warm embrace and rested your head on his shoulder. Your eyes fluttered close as his hands ran through your hair, a feeling of comfort settling over you. “(Y/N)…” Bruce began tentatively. “The things Jerome said…”

Your eyes popped open, and the sense of comfort dissipated. You sighed and stepped out of Bruce’s grasp. “I met Jerome four years ago at the circus before he murdered his mom. He started following me places and watching me…”

“He was stalking you?” His brown eyes were wide. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you already had a lot going on at the time. I didn’t want to add anything to it,” you explained. “He got this idea in his head that he and I were the same. He was obsessed with me, but after he died, he left me alone.”

“Wait,” he furrowed his thick brows, “what do you mean by he thought you were the same?”

You bit down on your lip. You really didn’t want to open this can of worms. You exhaled. _All well. It was a long time coming._ “Do you remember when my mom divorced my dad and he moved away?”

He nodded. “It was the summer. You and your mom stayed with us while your dad moved out.”

You gave him a firm nod. “Well, it wasn’t just because he was cheating on her with other women.” Your breath formed puffs of steam in the cold, night air. “He turned to drinking, and things got ugly. He hurt us, me and my mom. We were lucky enough to get out when we did.”

There was a moment of silence as Bruce took it all in. You watched his expression shift from anger to sorrow to, finally, grief. “Why didn’t you tell me, (Y/N)?” His voice was soft. “All this time, I had no idea.”

You kept your gaze trained on the blue and red flashing lights in the distance behind him. “I wanted you to think I was strong, strong enough to help you after you lost your parents.”

“You are strong.” He took your hands in his, drawing your eyes back to him. “Do you hear me? You are so unbelievably strong. Don’t you ever doubt that again for a second.” He pulled you into his arms again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you today,” he murmured into your hair.

“It’s okay.” You buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I didn’t need saving.”

You spotted Jeremiah approaching the scene of the accident over Bruce’s shoulder, and you stepped away from him. Bruce turned around to see why you had pulled away and froze when he saw Jeremiah. The redhead stopped in his tracks when he noticed his brother’s body laying atop the crushed car. Time seemed to stop as his eyes raked over the dead corpse. The look on his face was unreadable. Time started again when he continued to walk by, hunching his shoulders and pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Mr. Valeska,” Bruce said, and Jeremiah stopped once more to look at him. “I meant what I said about your work being of importance to this city. Let Wayne Enterprises fund your work with a grant.”

You thought you saw tears well up in Jeremiah’s blue eyes for a second. “Thank you.” He switched his gaze to you, and you felt your skin begin to crawl. “It’s good to see you unharmed.”

You forced a lighthearted laugh. “I’m sure you feel like a weight’s been lifted off your shoulders.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Do you?” His eyes were staring straight into your soul.

Instead of answering the question, you held your hand out to him. “It was nice meeting you again, Mr. Valeska.” You faked a smile. “Hopefully, next time it won’t be a matter of life or death.”

“Please, call me Jeremiah.” He grabbed your hand and shook it. Suddenly, you gasped as he pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you. You became enveloped in the scent of his cologne and the warmth radiating from his body. He leaned down until his lips just barely grazed the shell of your ear. “Take care of yourself, (Y/N),” he whispered, setting your nerve endings on fire.

He released you and turned around, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. He walked down the sidewalk until he blended in with the crowd. You felt Bruce’s presence next to you. “What was that about?” he asked, and you couldn’t ignore the protective glint in his eye.

“I don’t know.” You looked up at him. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

He clenched his jaw. “I hope so.”

You hoped so, too, but something in your gut told you otherwise.


	9. Chapter 9

It was raining, and you liked the rain. It was the soft kind of drizzle that was enjoyable, the trickling sound as it dripped off of roofs and collected in puddles pleasing to the ear. It made you want to open up your bedroom window and sit on the windowsill, reveling in the gray sky and dreary clouds that promised an impending storm.

“(Y/N)?” You looked over your shoulder to see your mom standing in the doorway to your bedroom. Her eyes widened when she took in your form sitting in the open window. “(Y/N), what are you doing?”

You hugged your knee to your chest and shrugged. “Just enjoying the rain.” You leaned your head back against the window frame. “I had a long day yesterday.”

“I saw. Footage of you strapped to a chair while that monster tortured you was the only thing on tv. I had a panic attack.” At the mention of Jerome, you looked back out at the wet grounds of your family’s estate. You heard the mattress of your bed squeak in complaint as your mom sank into it behind you. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can give Dr. Philips a call.”

“That won’t be necessary.” You didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, mainly because you didn’t know how you felt. You know you should’ve been happy that Jerome was gone. The world was better off without him; that’s what everyone said. But for some reason, you felt sad, like when he died, a part of you had died with him.

“Bruce Wayne sure does get himself into a lot of trouble, doesn’t he?” Your mother let out a slight chuckle.

“Sometimes, I think the trouble finds him,” you mused.

“Is he worth it?”

You looked back at her. “Yes,” you answered without hesitation, “he is. He makes me happy.”

“Ooh, sounds like he’s the one!” she singsonged.

“Mom, stop!” You groaned and buried your face in your hands to hide the blush creeping its way up your cheeks. But it was true; you couldn’t deny it. Bruce had been there since the beginning, and he was there still. He was forever.

“All right, all right. I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Your mother raised her hands in surrender and stood from the bed. “I’ll leave you be.”

You took your hands away from your face as she started to head for the door. “Mom?” you called. She stopped in her tracks and looked back at you. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything, sweetie.” She smiled at you.

You swung your legs back inside your room and gripped the windowsill with your hands. “After Dad left, how did you deal with it?”

Her smile faltered slightly. “Oh, that kind of a question.” She resumed her seat back on the bed. “Well, I started going to therapy, and you did too. I focused on the people I care about and the things that make me happy.”

“Well, yeah, but look at you!” you exclaimed and gestured to her wildly. “You’re the CEO of your own multi-billion dollar company, and you raised me all by yourself. How did you move past all of it and forget about it?”

She furrowed her brow. “I didn’t forget about it, (Y/N). What happened to us doesn’t just go away. It stays a part of you forever.” She stared you straight in the eye. “It’s your choice whether you’re going to grow from it or let it consume you.”

You stared down at the gray carpet under your feet and sighed. It wasn’t the answer you wanted to hear, but the one you needed to. “Easier said than done,” you muttered.

“(Y/N), does this have something to do with Jerome?” You looked up at her, and concern was written all over her face. “Maybe I should schedule you an appointment with Dr. Philips. What you went through was extremely traumatic.”

Your eyes widened. “No, Mom, I swear I’m fine!” You were about to continue to plead with her when you were interrupted by your ringtone. You looked over to see your phone buzzing on your desk. “We’ll continue this later, all right?” You didn’t give your mom a chance to respond before you snatched up your phone and dashed out into the hall.

You pursed your lips when you saw the number calling you wasn’t one you recognized. You shrugged and answered it anyway. “Hello?” You held the phone up to your ear.

“(Y/N),” the voice on the other end caused your heart to leap in your chest, “it’s Jeremiah.”

It took you a second to find your voice. “J-Jeremiah? How did you get my number?”

“Bruce gave it to me.” You wanted to smack yourself upside the head. You were jumping to conclusions. “I was wondering if you wanted to stop by the bunker. I’ve made some tremendous improvements to the engine since we last spoke.”

“Me? Oh, I don’t know.” You leaned against the wall and crossed your legs. “Shouldn’t you be asking Bruce? He knows a lot more about all that stuff then I do.”

“I already invited Mr. Wayne, and he agreed to come by,” he said. “So, what do you say? I would really appreciate your input.”

You took your bottom lip between your teeth. _Well, if Bruce is going to be there, what’s the harm?_ “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“That’s great to hear, (Y/N).” Something about his tone sent shivers down your spine. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

He hung up, and you took a second to regain your composure before walking back into your room. Your mom was still sitting there on the bed, waiting patiently. “Sorry, Mom. I have somewhere I have to be.” You grabbed your jacket and threw it on. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You blew her a kiss and left the room.

Your mother twisted around and called after you as you left, “This conversation isn’t over, (Y/N)!”


	10. Chapter 10

The first thing you noticed after Ecco took your coat and led you through the winding maze to Jeremiah’s lab was that Bruce was not there. “Where’s Bruce?” You stepped into the room and looked around, but the raven-haired boy was no where to be found.

Jeremiah looked up from tinkering with a life-size version of the model you had seen a week ago. “Ah, (Y/N). Nice of you to make it.” His lips curled into a smile as his eyes raked over your form. “Mr. Wayne will be joining us shortly. In the meantime, I thought I could give you a quick demonstration.”

Your heart started beating faster at the thought of being alone with Jeremiah. _It’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?_ you tried to reassure yourself, but you stopped thinking before your mind could run away with all the possibilities. “Sure. I’m up for it.”

His smile grew wider at your words. He set down blueprints and a pen on the table next to him and picked up some sort of controller. “Could you hit that switch on the wall behind you please?”

You looked over your shoulder to see a giant, metal switch on the wall. You tentatively reached out and flipped it. The whole building went dark, and your heart jumped straight to your throat. You started to think that maybe this was some sort of trap when a soft, blue light started to radiate from the machine. It grew brighter and brighter until all of the lights flickered for a moment before coming back on at full force.

You stepped closer to the engine in the middle of the room. You could hear a low, steady buzzing sound coming from it. “Ambient energy,” Jeremiah said behind you, nearly causing you to jump out of your skin. “No cables or wires of any kind. It’s clean and stable, harvested from micro tremors and air density shifts.” The blue light from the machine reflected off of his glasses. “It’s… it’s virtually without costs.”

You looked back at the engine, mesmerized by the bright, blue light. “This is amazing, ‘Miah. We’ll be able to help so many people all over Gotham.”

He perked up at your words of praise. You felt his hand brush against yours, and he intertwined your fingers. He whirled you around to meet his adoring gaze. “(Y/N), would you do me the honor of letting me take you out to dinner?”

Your whole body went tense. “Jeremiah, I’m dating Bruce.”

His eyes roamed over the uncomfortable expression on your face. “Forgive me, you’re just so beautiful, I… I couldn’t help myself.”

You slipped your hand out of his grasp and took a step back. “I think I should call Bruce and makes sure he’s on his way…”

“Do you love him?” he cut you off.

You furrowed your brow. “Bruce? Yes, of course.”

His lips pulled taut into a straight line, and you deduced he wasn’t happy with your answer. “Did you love my brother?”

You let out a forced laugh. “What are you talking about? I barely knew Jerome.”

“Well, that doesn’t add up with what he said the other day.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his suit pants. “It got me thinking, so I had Arkham Asylum send me Jerome’s personal effects. His diary was among them.” He opened the drawer of a little side table and pulled out a black notebook. He held it up so you could see the cover. It was decorated with a blue, dripping ice cream cone and glittery letters that spelled, _JEROME._

“He wrote a lot about your visits, about what your father did to you.” He flipped through the pages, and you could see a lot of crude drawings done in pen and multiple phrases written over and over again in scribbled handwriting. He turned to a page with a drawing that was unmistakably of you. However, your eyes were completely black, and ruby red blood dripped out of your tear ducts and down your face.

You stared in horror at the drawing. “Jeremiah, I really don’t think you should be looking at that.”

“He clearly loved you, as much as a monster like him can love someone, and I think you love him too.” The expression on his face was stone cold, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on edge. “You’re just too afraid to admit to yourself.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to regain your composure. “I think I should step out for a minute, see how far away Bruce is.” You started for the door and got out your phone.

He snatched it out of your hand before you could even hit the home button. “I wouldn’t bother. He’s not coming.”

Your hands started to shake. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s not coming. I didn’t invite him.” He dropped your phone to the floor and crushed it under the heel of his dress shoe with a heart-shattering _crunch._ “I wanted to get you by yourself.”

Your eyes widened as you looked from your destroyed phone to the eerie expression on his face. “Jeremiah, you’re scaring me.”

“Oh! I almost forgot to thank you for the present you sent me.” He walked around you to a desk in the corner of the room.

You wrinkled your nose. “I didn’t send you a present.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t.” He bent down to pull open a bottom drawer and retrieved something out of it. He slammed it down on the table, and you squinted your eyes as you stared at it. It was an old-looking jack in the box that had been previously wrapped in purple wrapping paper and tied with a big, white, silk bow. It was opened, and the jack in the box had a nozzle where its mouth should be. Hanging off of it was a tag that read, “From (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“It looks like my brother had one last surprise in store for me, and he knew just how to get me to open it.” He stepped closer to you. “A fail safe in case he needed someone to continue his legacy. Unfortunately for him, his plan failed.” He took off his glasses and set them down on the table. “Besides some minor side effects.”

He took his handkerchief out of his vest pocket and wiped his face. Slowly, he removed flesh-colored makeup to reveal skin as white as a bed sheet and scarlet lips. He took out his contacts, and when he opened his eyes, they were a disturbing, glassy green.

The air left your lungs as you took in his unnatural appearance. “Jeremiah, you need help. Let me and Bruce help you.”

“Like how your mother just wanted to help you?” It took you a second for realization to wash over you. That conversation you had with your mother, he had been _watching_ you. “Face it, (Y/N). Your connection to Jerome, to Bruce… You were meant for me.” He stalked towards you. “You can understand me like no one else can. We were made for each other.”

You backed up until the back of your thighs hit the edge of the cool, metal table. You were trapped. “Jeremiah, you’re not thinking straight,” you tried to convince him, but the panic in your voice was painfully evident. “Don’t do anything you’d regret.”

“Oh, I’m not going to regret a single thing.” His lips stretched into an unnerving smile. “Jerome and Bruce have kept you from me for long enough. Now, I’m finally going to take what’s mine.”


	11. Chapter 11

The strange call, no Bruce, asking you out? You should’ve known. But now, he had you pinned between him and the table.

Jeremiah cupped your face in his hands. “We don’t have to pretend or hide anymore, (Y/N). We can finally be free.” He leaned forward and crashed his lips against yours.

Your eyes were wide open as he kissed you. You turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss, and yelled, “Help me! Somebody, help!”

He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. “I wouldn’t bother screaming. No one will be able to hear you.” He smushed his lips against yours again. You wriggled and twisted in his grip, but one hand on your chin kept your mouth against his and the other on your hip held you in place.

You pressed your hands against his chest to push him off, but he was too strong and stayed still. His tongue poked and prodded its way into your mouth as his hand on your hip slid up your thigh and under your dress. Your eyes widened in alarm, and you bit down on his tongue. He yelped and pulled away, his piercing, green eyes burning with anger.

“Jeremiah, stop!” you shouted as your hand wrapped around his wrist. You stiffened as his fingers traced over the lace of your underwear.

“Are you sure you really want me to stop?” His fingers slid underneath the fabric of your panties and ran through your folds. You sucked in a breath. “You’re so wet for me,” he purred.

You tugged on his wrist to get him to stop, but it was pointless. “Ecco? Somebody?” you called.

That earned a laugh from him. “Do you really think Ecco is going to help you?” His fingers swirled over your clit, and you bit back a moan.

“Please, Jeremiah,” your tried to hide the effect his affections had on your voice, “stop.” You leaned your head back, and he attached his lips to the newly exposed expanse of skin. You removed your hands from his wrist and reached blindly around the table behind you. Your fingertips brushed against cool glass, and you grabbed the object with a vice-like grip.

“That’s it. Give in,” he encouraged as his slick fingers moved down to your entrance. You let out a small moan before colliding the object in your hand with the side of his head.

Shards of glass rained down on you, and you yelped as they pricked your skin. He reared back, his green eyes flashing with rage. You shoved him away from you as hard as you could and sprinted for the door. You pushed it open and ran out into the hallway only to be met with the spiraling maze Ecco had led you through when you first came in. _Shit._

“(Y/N)?” you heard Jeremiah behind you, and without thinking twice, you turned left. You continued to make turn after turn, not sure of where you were going, only knowing that you had to get away. The gray walls seemed to close in on you as the fluorescent lights flickered over head. Each hall and each path bled together until you felt like you were going in circles. The maze was designed to keep people in, not out.

You were about to slow down when you heard Jeremiah’s voice again. “(Y/N), there’s no use running. I designed this maze myself; I know it like the back of my hand.” His words renewed the fight in you, and you tripped over your feet as you stumbled on. You ran one hand along the length of the wall as you went, your legs turning to mush.

You didn’t know if it had been hours or minutes since you had started running. You were covered in a thin sheen of sweat and panting, but you refused to give up. “Where are you, (Y/N)?” His taunting voice echoed in your ears. You couldn’t tell where it was coming from anymore.

You swore you came across a section of the maze you had already passed before when you bumped into Jeremiah’s solid chest. You looked up to see the side of his face bloody from bits of glass embedded in his pale skin and his lips twisted into a demented smile. “There you are.”

You backed away from him, your eyes wide with terror. He raised his hand to his lips and sucked your remaining juices off of his fingers. A guttural moan escaped from his lips. “You taste delicious. Just like I thought you would.”

You spun on your heel and started to run again, but it wasn’t long before his hands were back on you. “Did you really think you could escape me?” His tone was tinged with anger. You cried as he shoved you to the ground. “I’m inevitable, (Y/N). Everything in your life has led to me. I’m your destiny.” You tried to crawl away from him, but he laid on top of you, crushing you with his weight.

You screamed as his thumbs hooked under the elastic band of your panties. He tugged them down in one fell swoop and discarded them. “No!” You writhed underneath him. You tried to close your legs, but his knee forced them open. “This isn’t you, Jeremiah!”

“No, sweetheart.” He pushed your dress up over your hips, exposing yourself to him. “This is who I was always meant to be.” You felt the head of his cock line up with your entrance, and fear coursed through your veins.

You shrieked as he pressed into you. He barely managed to get his tip in before you felt like you were being split open. “Stop!” Tears leaked out of your eyes and left trails down your cheeks. “Jeremiah, you’re hurting me!”

He shushed you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Just relax. Enjoy it.” He stopped pressing into you and pulled the strap of your dress down your shoulder, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin.

Eventually, the pain subsided, giving way to pleasure, and you became embarrassingly aware of how wet you were. Jeremiah continued to sink his length into you, your walls stretching around him. “That’s better.” He licked a stripe up your ear. “Good girl.”

His words of praise went straight to your core. By the time he was buried in you to the hilt, you had been pushed far past your limits. “God, you feel so good around me, even better than I imagined.” He groaned as he pulled almost all the way out of you before thrusting back in.

You whined and jolted forward. He started off at a slow, steady pace, one hand on your hip and the other bracing himself against the floor. He dipped his head and attached his lips to your neck. “Jeremiah…” you trailed off before you could protest him again, your voice thick with wanton lust.

“Going to mark you up,” he nipped at your skin and soothed his bites with his tongue, “let everyone know who you belong to.” He sped up, and your knees and elbows scratched against the cement floor under you. You knew you would find bruises there when all this was over and done with.

“Did my brother ever get to touch you like this?” Jeremiah growled. He reached between your bodies to rub your clit. “Did Bruce ever fill you up the way I do?”

A shudder ran through you as he rubbed your clit at the same pace he pounded into you. “Please, don’t.” Your voice was breathy, and an involuntary moan slipped from your lips. You hoped it wasn’t audible over the obscene noise of skin slapping against skin.

You felt that familiar coil twist in your gut, and you squeezed your eyes shut. “Going to make you feel so good,” he grunted. The way he was fucking you was almost primal. “Stay with me, and I’ll make you feel this good every night for the rest of your life!”

With one more thrust, pleasure washed over you. You dissolved into a sweaty mess of mewls and whimpers, your nails digging into the floor beneath you. Through your orgasmic haze, you felt something prick your thigh, and you looked down to see Jeremiah injecting you with some sort of substance. It wasn’t long before your mind started to swim and you found it hard to keep your eyes open.

“Rest, (Y/N),” he cooed. His thrusts grew sloppy as your limbs went limp. “I love you.”

The last thing you felt before everything went black was Jeremiah cumming inside you.


	12. Chapter 12

You swore it had been sunny before you crossed the bridge to Arkham Asylum. But the second your town car pulled up to the wrought iron gate, the sun disappeared behind gray, dreary clouds, and the air had a distinct tension to it, like a storm could strike at any moment. The cold nipped at your skin as you climbed out of the car, a chill running through you as you took in the massive, aging structure in front of you. It was like the mental institution had its own weather system attached to it.

Inside the intimidating building was even worse. It was all stained, linoleum tile and fluorescent lights that made everyone’s skin look sickly and sallow. As you approached the front desk, you could hear screams and manic laughter echoing down the hallways.

A very bored woman looked up from her crossword at you. “Can I help you?” she asked in a monotone.

You cleared your throat. “Yes. I’m here to visit Jerome Valeska.”

She rolled her eyes before turning to a dated computer. Her nails clacked on the keys, and the blue light emanating from the screen reflected in her cat eye glasses. “Jerome Valeska is under strict lockdown and is not allowed to have visitors at this time.”

Your heart sunk. You were expecting something like that to happen. “Please?” you begged. “I really need to talk to him.”

“Check back another time.” She didn’t even look at you as she went back to her crossword.

You tapped your fingers against the desk, chewing on your bottom lip. You needed to think of some way to get this woman to let you see Jerome. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in your brain, and you fished your wallet out of your coat pocket. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be willing to look the other way?” You took out a hundred dollar bill and slid it across the desk to her.

She glanced up at the cash and then at you. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m just following orders.” She crossed her legs and looked back at her crossword.

You clenched your jaw and took out another hundred. You knew you looked desperate, but you didn’t care. “How about now?” You stacked the bill on top of the other one.

That caught her attention. She pocketed the cash. “I’ll see what I can do.” She pushed her rolling chair back and waddled out of the room.

You stayed standing at the desk, your eyes glued to the clock mounted on the wall. Your ears filled with the sound of the second hand ticking around the clock’s face. You counted five minutes and twenty-eight seconds by the time the woman returned. “Right this way, ma’am.”

You followed her down a narrow, dimly lit hallway. She stopped in front of a heavy, metal door where a guard was standing watch. “Please empty your pockets of all your belongings,” the guard instructed you.

You did as he said, and after you had taken off your jewelry and placed it in a Ziploc bag, he swung the door open. “Please do not touch or get too close to the patient.”

You nodded before stepping inside. Immediately, you took in your surroundings. Two walls were made up of metal bars, one of brick, and the last consisted of large windows overlooking the bay, Gotham City in the distance. Your eyes landed on Jerome sitting at a table in the middle of the room dressed in a black and white striped jumpsuit. His hands were cuffed to the table, and his feet were in shackles connected to the cement floor.

He looked up at you when he heard you come in. “(Y/N).” His lips curled into a devious smirk. “What a surprise. I was hoping I would be seeing you again soon.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Hi, Jerome.” You tentatively walked toward him and took the empty chair across from him. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, pretty good so far. Greenwood has only threatened to cook my intestines and eat them twice, and only one person has shat themselves today,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m sorry.” You looked down at your trembling hands. “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, doll.” He dismissed you with a wave of his hand. “You could say anything to me with that pretty face of yours and I would forgive you instantly.” You looked down, hoping to hide the heat creeping its way to your cheeks. “You look even cuter when you blush.”

“How’s treatment going?” you asked, trying to change the subject.

He quirked a brow. “The only form of treatment around here is poking us with a cattle prod.”

Your eyes widened. “I knew it was a bad idea for them to put you in here. It can’t be any good for your health.” You pressed your hands flat against the cool, metal table and leaned forward. “Do you want me to talk to someone for you?”

He chuckled, the sound reverberating off of the metal bars. “Don’t waste your pretty money on me, sweetheart. There’s nothing you can do. Besides, I fit in great here.”

You gave him a once over. You had expected a sickly looking boy with bags under his eyes, disheveled hair, and pale skin pulled tight over bones. What you got instead was quite the opposite. His red hair was groomed, and you could make out a strong physique underneath his uniform. His cheeks were ruddy, and the crystal blue of his eyes shone bright in the light streaming through the windows.

“Well, all things considered, you look… healthy,” you stumbled over your words.

“It’s okay, darling. You can say handsome.” He winked at you, and your heart skipped a beat. “Believe it or not, this place treats me better than my sweet mother ever did. I get three meals a day and eight hours of sleep a night.”

You exhaled. “Jerome, I know you’re mad at the world, but murdering your mother wasn’t the solution.”

His smile faltered for a second, and his eyes lost all light they had held previously. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he leaned forward on his elbows, “how badly did your father beat you? Did he break empty bottles of whiskey over your head when you refused to get him more? Did he come into your room in the middle of the night and kick you for not washing the dishes?”

Your body went stiff. “Why… why would you ask me that?” you stammered.

“Because I want to know all the things that keep you up at night.” He tilted his head to the side, and you shivered under his intense gaze. “I want to know all the secrets you kept from everyone.”

You folded your hands and rested them in your lap. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Everyone else might believe that, doll, but you can’t fool me.” He grinned. “Where’s daddy dearest now?”

“I don’t know. Last I heard he was in Pennsylvania, but that was years ago.” You scratched the back of your neck.

“Have you ever thought about killing him, peaches?” His eyes were wild. “Can’t you see it now? You and I, hunting down your father and making him bleed for what he did to you? Torturing him the same way he tortured you all those years?”

You felt that familiar pit in your stomach, and you shook your head. “That’s insane, Jerome. If you keep saying things like that, you’ll be stuck here till the day you die.”

“Oh, honey. They can’t keep me here forever. I plan on breaking out of here as soon as the perfect opportunity comes along.” He leaned forward. “Why did you come and visit me, princess?”

You furrowed your brow. “Because I thought you would listen to me. You need to change, Jerome.”

“Really? That’s the answer you’re going with?” He cackled, and your skin started to crawl. “You wanna know what I think, sweet cheeks? I think, not only do you understand me better than anyone, but I understand you better than anyone else, too. You’ve got this darkness inside of you, and it’s drawn to me.” His grin grew wider. “I wonder what it would take to bring it out.”

“Stop it, Jerome.” Your voice was surprisingly firm and steady. “We’re not victims anymore. We make our own choices now.”

His smile slowly slipped from his face, and the look in his blue eyes softened. “Touch me, (Y/N).” He reached his hand as far as he could towards you, his palm upturned. “You’re the only thing that keeps me sane in here. The thought of you gets me through the day.”

You stared at his freckled hand for a long time before sliding your hand forward on the metal table. Your skin made contact with his, sending tingles straight down your spine. His hand was cold, and his long fingers intertwined with yours. You held your breath, waiting for something to happen, for him to hurt you. But nothing came. He merely offered you a small smile.

“Are you scared of me, (Y/N)?” His voice was quiet. “Or are you scared of yourself?”

Before you could answer, the door swung open, and you retracted your hand. “Your time’s up,” the guard said in a gruff, demanding tone.

“Okay.” You stood up and pulled your coat tight around you.

“(Y/N), please come back.” Jerome’s eyes followed you as you scampered towards the door. “Promise me you’ll come visit me again.”

“I promise, Jerome,” you said before the guard pushed you out of the room. “I promise.”

And you did. Over the course of the next year, you visited Jerome multiple times under the guise of helping him. But you never knew if you were the one changing Jerome or if he was the one changing you, and everyday the hopeless feeling in your gut grew stronger.

Until, one day, you turned on the news and saw an image of seven bodies laying in puddles of blood wearing straight jackets with red spray paint on them spelling out a single word: _MANIAX!_


	13. Chapter 13

Your body felt sore all over. You were laying on a hard mattress that didn’t do any favors for your bruised knees and elbows. Your head still felt cloudy, like it was stuffed full of cotton, and you wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep. You buried your face in your pillow and pulled the white duvet closer around you.

However, sleep became impossible when the door cracked open, flooding the room with bright, white light. Ecco stepped inside, but instead of her usual sleek ponytail and tight dress, her blonde hair was up in two buns and her body was clad in black and red leather. She closed the door behind her, shrouding you once again in darkness. She barely glanced at you and walked straight into the bathroom.

You groaned as you sat up, blinking rapidly to clear your blurry gaze. You were in a room without windows. The only pieces of furniture were the bed you were currently on and a dresser. A dim overhead light cast shadows on the gray walls, and the cement floor was cold under your feet when you swung your legs to the side of the bed. You stood on shaky legs and realized your dress had been replaced with a short, thin nightgown.

You stumbled as you walked over to the dresser. You rummaged through the drawers, looking for something to defend yourself with, but all you found were piles and piles of neatly folded clothes. They were mainly dresses in jewel tones made out of silk and satin.

You heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, and you stood up straight. “Ecco?” You drew closer to the bathroom. “What are you doing?”

Her small figure appeared in the doorway. “Boss told me to draw you a bath.” It was probably the most you had ever heard her speak, but there was still something off about her voice.

You swallowed roughly and looked side to side before lowering your voice. “Ecco, you have to help me out of here.” You didn’t know if you could trust her, but it was worth a shot.

There was not even a hint of remorse in her blue eyes. “Sorry, no can do. Boss’s orders.” She shrugged and started to head towards the door.

You grabbed her arm and turned her around to face you. “Please, Ecco! I’m begging you!”

Her instincts took over as she manipulated your hand that was on her so she was the one gripping you instead. She whipped you around and pinned you down on the bed, your arm twisted behind your back. You whined, and she immediately let go of you. You collapsed and rolled over onto your back, your chest heaving. You stared up at Ecco to see her blue eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured before scurrying out of the room like a dog that had been kicked.

It wasn’t long before the door opened again. You hadn’t moved from your position on the bed, and you turned your head to see who it was. You shot up straight, however, when you saw Jeremiah standing in the doorway and holding a metal tray in his gloved hands. He looked completely unhinged now: his green eyes pierced you, and his scarlet lips curled into a small smile. You noticed tiny scabs on the side of his face where you had cut him before.

“I’m sorry about Ecco. She can’t control her training sometimes.” His voice was in an eerie monotone. “I promise she will be dealt with.”

“Stay away from me.” You crawled backwards on the bed. “Don’t come near me.”

“Or what? What are you going to do?” He closed the door behind him and walked closer to you. Your heart hammered with every footstep. “You’ve been out for a while. You must be starving, so I brought you some food.”

He set the metal tray down on the foot of the bed. Your eyes looked back and forth between the food on the tray and the smile on Jeremiah’s face that you figured was supposed to be comforting. Then, you swatted the tray away from you with a snarl. It fell with a loud clatter to the floor, spilling food everywhere.

His smile faltered. “I’m trying to take care of you, (Y/N).” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I love you.”

“You’re insane!” you shrieked at the top of your lungs. “You don’t love me. If you did, you wouldn’t have forced yourself on me and then kidnapped me!”

“I knew you would put up a fight at first, but it’ll get better as time goes on.” His gloved hand ran over your ankle, and you moved your foot out of his grasp. “And I had to get you away from everyone in order to put my plan into motion.”

You curled up into a ball, sniffling softly. “What plan?”

“My brother was right about one thing: there is darkness inside of you.” He shifted on the bed so he was facing you. “I’m going to do something he was never able to do. I’m going to bring it out of you.” He burned you with his intense gaze. “You and I will burn Gotham down together. Then, we will rebuild it and rule as its rightful leaders.”

You felt that empty feeling in your stomach and shook your head. “But I don’t want any of that!”

“Oh, deep down you do. You can deny it all you want, but I know you, (Y/N). Better than you know yourself.” He scooted closer to you.

Your back was pressed against the headboard now. “Bruce will come for me. He’ll find you, and he’ll stop you.”

“Oh, yes. Your little boyfriend.” He tilted his head to the side. “He did nothing but hold you back. He doesn’t know how to take care of you. He can’t foster the darkness in you like I can.” He pressed his hands into the mattress on either side of your legs. “That’s why I have something very special in store for him.”

Your hands curled into fists, your nails digging into your palms. “Jeremiah, I swear, if you kill him…”

“Kill him? Oh, I won’t kill him.” His grin was impossibly wide as he leaned over you. “I’m just going to torture him until he regrets ever laying his hands on you. I’ll hurt him so badly that he will beg for me to kill him, and then, you will be all mine.”

He dove in for your lips, and you scratched at his face. “I don’t belong to anyone, and certainly not you!” You aimed for his eyes, but he grabbed your wrists, easily apprehending you. Suddenly, it was like all your strength had been drained out of you, and you fell back on the bed limp.

“Be careful, darling. Those sedatives I gave you were very strong.” He stared down at you, adoration in his eyes, and ran his fingers through your hair. “It’ll probably take you a few days to fully recover.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “You’re a monster!” your voice cracked with emotion. “Even worse than your brother! At least he listened to me, at least he stopped when I told him to!”

His smile completely vanished from his face, and his eyes burned with anger. “I am nothing like my brother.” His fingers wrapped around your throat, and your eyes widened. “I am doing what I know is best for you, whether you like it or not.” His grip tightened, and your hands flew to the one on your throat, scratching at the leather covering his hands. You gasped for breath, but merely squeaked.

Suddenly, he released you, and you sucked in the air your lungs had been deprived of. You clutched your throat, coughing and sputtering as he hovered over you. “My, my, look at you.” There wasn’t a hint of guilt in his green eyes; they were devoid of all emotion. “I think you need a bath.”


	14. Chapter 14

You had no choice but to comply as Jeremiah scooped you up in his arms. Your limbs were still far too weak. He carried you into the bathroom. In contrast to the other room, the walls and floor were covered with pristine, white tile. There was the standard toilet and sink, but what made this bathroom special was the claw foot tub in the middle of the room. It was filled to the top with warm, soapy water, and as much as you hated to admit it, the curls of steam coming off of the surface looked inviting to your sore body.

Jeremiah set you down on shaky legs, and you gripped onto the edge of the sink to steady yourself. You caught a glimpse of your reflection in the full length mirror on the wall. There were dark circles under your eyes, and your hair was matted and frizzy. Your skin was decorated with scabs and scratches, and a bruise in the shape of a handprint was starting to form where he had choked you earlier.

“Let’s get this off, shall we?” His voice drew you out of your trance, and you shuddered when you felt his fingers brush the hem of your nightgown. His hands wandered up your body and over our curves until they reached the straps keeping the nightgown on you. He pulled them down your shoulders, and the garment pooled around your feet, leaving you completely bare.

His eyes raked over your naked form, and you resisted the urge to cover yourself with your arms. “Look at you, so beautiful.” His hand ran down your thigh, and you let out a little whine when he grazed the bruise on your knee. “You definitely need a washing, though. Don’t worry, my dirty girl. We’ll get you clean.”

He removed his gloves and shoved them in the pocket of his suit pants. He held out his pale hand to you, and you hesitated before taking it. With his help, you stepped into the bath, hissing as the hot water stung you. You sank into the water, some spilling over the side as you did so, and allowed yourself to adjust to the temperature.

Jeremiah let go of your hand to get a washcloth. He returned to your side and dipped it into the tub, soaking it. He kneeled next to you and moved your wet hair to the side so he could scrub your shoulders. “You’re so tense, dear.” His thumb massaged at a knot in your shoulder, and you tried to relax under his touch. “That’s better.”

He washed your back for a while before his hands moved lower. You started to stiffen again when the washcloth ran over your chest. “You’re getting tense again, love.” There was an edge to his harmless words as he groped your breasts through the washcloth. “Please, try to relax.”

You leaned back against the tub and closed your eyes. You tried to detach yourself from what was happening as his thumb brushed over your nipple, tried to pretend you were anywhere else. But it became increasingly hard as the fire ignited between your legs. You hated yourself for taking pleasure in any part of this at all.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” He moved the washcloth lower to your stomach. “It could be like this everyday, (Y/N). I could take care of you. Would you like that?”

You wouldn’t given him the satisfaction of an answer. You ignored him, but your eyes popped open when his hand touched your core. You wriggled your hips uncomfortably and loosely wrapped your hands around his wrist, staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Stay still, dear.” He looked down at you like he was absolutely oblivious to what he was doing to you. “I have to make sure you’re completely clean.”

You let go of his wrist and settled back against the tub again. He slowly rubbed the washcloth over your pussy. Your breathing picked up, and heat started to creep its way up your cheeks. You tried to hold in your moans, but when his thumb ran over your clit, one slipped out.

Something inside of him snapped, and he withdrew his arm from the water. He tossed the washcloth over his shoulder before sticking his arm back under the surface, wetting the rolled up sleeve of his burgundy button up. He cupped your pussy with his hand and ran a finger through your folds. You let out a squeal of surprise and began to squirm. He clapped a hand on your shoulder to keep you still.

“I’m sorry, dear, you’re just too irresistible.” His fingers rubbed circles on your clit. “After all these years alone, I just can’t help myself.”

The surface of the water rippled as his hand sped up. You bit your lip to try to keep in your moans. “Now, that’s not fair.” The hand on your shoulder ran up to cup your cheek. He slipped a finger into your mouth and forced your lips apart. “Open your mouth for me. I want to hear all the pretty sounds you’re making.”

You resisted the urge to bite his finger out of fear of what he would do to you. His finger pressed against your entrance, and you gasped. You were still sore from when he had fucked you earlier. His finger slid into you, and you grabbed onto the edges of the tub. “God, you’re so tight,” he praised as he pumped his finger in and out of you. When he deemed you were ready, he added another one.

With his finger in your mouth, you couldn’t stop the stream of lustful moans that came spilling out. You subconsciously swirled your tongue around his finger and sucked on it. He curled his fingers inside of you, and you felt the beginning of an orgasm twist in your gut. He took his fingers out of your mouth and grabbed your chin, forcing your head to face him. “Look at me when you cum,” he commanded. The pupils of his glassy, green eyes were large and blown-out.

His thumb started circling your clit, bringing you closer to the edge. Your knuckles turned white from gripping the tub so hard, and your moans became shorter as they fell in time with his rhythm. Your hands moved down to his wrist again, hoping to slow him down and stop the feeling in your gut from building and building.

“I’m going to break you,” he whispered, and it only increased the pleasure rising inside of you. “And then I’m going to set your free.”

Your pussy clenched around his fingers as you came hard. You let out a high-pitched whine, not daring to take your eyes off of him as your high washed over you. He slowed down his pace and continued to finger you through your orgasm. Your gaze drifted down to the bulge straining against the fabric of his suit pants.

Then, he took his fingers out of you. “I need to be inside you again.” Before you could protest, he yanked you up by your arm and lifted you out of the tub. You cried out as he dragged you out of the bathroom, not bothering to grab a towel for you. You still felt too weak to walk, so you basically put all your weight on him as he hauled you across the room.

You bounced on the mattress when he threw you on the bed. He undid the buttons on his shirt as he stalked towards you, letting the garment fall to the floor. You took in the toned muscles rippling underneath his pale skin before he climbed on top of you. You tried to crawl away from him, but he easily grabbed your thighs and pulled you back to him. “Don’t bother trying to fight me. You know I’ll get what I want one way or another.”

The sheets underneath you became soaked from the water on your body, but he didn’t seem to care. He gripped your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head while pushing his pants down with the other, allowing his member to spring free. You tried to close your legs, but he stuck his knee between them, forcing them open. In one swift movement, he pushed into you, and you were wet enough from your previous orgasm that he was able to slide into you easier.

He set a rapid pace as he rammed into you, causing your tits to bounce, and you could tell by the look on his face that he was enjoying the view. “Suck my fingers like you did before.” He stuck his fingers into your mouth, and you did as he said, sucking and licking them. “God, that’s so hot. I’ll have to see how that mouth feels around me later.” The thought of him forcing you onto your knees and fucking your mouth sent fear coursing through your veins, but it also made you tighten around his length.

He groaned and lifted your leg so he was plowing into you at a different angle. You felt the tip of his cock brush against your g-spot, and your drowsy state only heightened your arousal. “Did you like it when I choked you earlier?” His hand that was in your mouth moved down to your throat. “I bet you did, my naughty girl.”

You were about to scream when his hand started tightening on your throat. It hurt twice as much because of the bruise he had left on you, and your hands were still restrained above your head. All you could do was stare up at him and open and close your mouth like a fish out of water as black dots started to cloud your vision.

Your orgasm surprised you as it hit you like a freight train. Your legs quivered around him, and his thrusts started to become sloppier and more uneven. “Gonna fill you up,” he growled. He let go of your throat as he came inside of you. You gasped for air as his thrusts slowed down, and he pulled out before collapsing on top of you.

You would’ve yelped from his crushing weight if you could have, but you were still struggling to find your voice. He slowly stirred on top of you. “Mmm, you were so good for me.” He pressed kisses all over your face and stroked your hair. “I love you, (Y/N). I love you so much. I’m going to take such good care of you.”

When you were finally able to make noise again, you let out a strangled sob. Tears started to flow down your face, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop them. “Oh, I know.” He rolled onto his side and pulled you into his chest. “I know it hurts right now, but I promise you, (Y/N), it’ll get so much better. I’m going to make you happier than you ever knew you could be.”

You wanted to push him away and scream at him and run, but you knew you couldn’t. All you could do was bury your face in his chest and hope that sleep would overtake you soon. Then, you looked over his shoulder and saw a red dot in the darkness. You realized it was a security camera in the corner of the room, and that made you cry even harder. Because even when he was gone, he would still be watching you.


	15. Chapter 15

You stopped crying after three days.

Not because you had become desensitized to your situation, no. You were far from that. But you couldn’t feel sorry for yourself anymore. You had to focus on finding a way to escape.

Jeremiah spent every free moment with you he could. When he wasn’t there, the red light on the camera in the corner of the room pierced through the dark. Not only that, but Ecco checked in on you intermittently. You guessed she stopped by every hour, but without a clock in your room, it was impossible to tell. You knew you were going to have to be crafty if you wanted to get out of here.

Jeremiah wrapped you in a soft, white towel and carried you out of the bathroom. He set you down on the bed gently. He had just finished giving you a bath and had managed to keep his hands off of you. Well, at least as much as he could, anyway.

“Which one do you want to wear, darling?” He pulled two dresses out of the dresser and held them up to you. One was an eggplant slip made out of silk, and the other was skin tight and emerald velvet. Of course, it didn’t really matter to you which one you wore, so you shrugged. He arched a brow. “Perhaps you would prefer no dress at all then?” His eyes raked over your form as a grin spread across his face. “I certainly wouldn’t mind that.”

You pulled the towel tighter around you. “The purple one,” you answered quickly. At least it would be easier to escape in. You wouldn’t give into him or his sick fantasy of keeping you from the world and all to himself, but you would temper his mood if it kept him away from you and his anger at bay.

He nodded approvingly. “Nice choice.” He folded the green one neatly and put it back in the drawer. He walked back over to you. “Now, I am going to have to take that towel from you.” He tilted his head to the side. “Don’t worry. I won’t bite.”

Your grip on the towel loosened, and he ripped it away from you. You kept your arms glued to your sides, resisting the urge to cover yourself. You didn’t miss the leer he gave you before he cleared his throat. “Lift your arms.” You did as he said, and he pulled the dress on over your head. The silk was soft against your skin; no doubt he had splurged on you.

He sank into the mattress next to you. “Would you like me to braid your hair?” He twisted a few of your wet locks between his fingers. “I think you would look so pretty with your hair in braids.” You merely nodded, and he moved the fingers in your hair to your chin. “You know I want you to use your words, darling.”

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely audible.

He smiled. “Good girl.” He got a brush and moved to sit behind you on the bed, his legs straddling yours. He started to brush the tangles out of your hair. “You’ve been such a good girl for me recently, haven’t you? I ought to reward you somehow.”

You didn’t like the tone in his voice. “Maybe… you could take me out?”

The brush stalled in your hair for a second. “I’m sorry, dear. I wish I could, but I can’t until I know I can trust you.”

“You can trust me,” you murmured, your voice small. It wasn’t believable, not in the slightest. You might have been a lot of things, but you weren’t an actress.

He pulled the brush through your hair a little roughly, catching on a knot, and you whimpered. “Now, dear, you know I don’t like it when you lie.”

“I’m sorry.” You were glad he couldn’t see your face when you scrunched your eyes shut. You despised yourself for catering to him like this.

“It’s all right, love.” He put down the brush and separated your hair into three sections. “I know this is going to take some time, but I’m doing it because it’ll be worth it in the end. I love you, and I’m willing to do anything for us to be together.”

_You don’t love me. Bruce loves me. My mom loves me. My friends love me._ In fact, thinking about them kept you from completely crumbling in this place and succumbing to him. “How long do you think you can keep me here?”

“As long as it takes.” He started weaving your hair together. His fingers were nimble and worked expertly. “Once you love me back, we’ll wipe Gotham clean, a blank slate for us to do with as we please. We’ll build it in our image and spend the rest of our lives together ruling the city,” he babbled as he braided. “We’ll get married, have children, and live in comfort, free to do whatever we want.”

You scoffed. “That’ll never happen.”

His tone turned sour. “What?”

“Many have tried before you to take over Gotham, Jeremiah, and many will try after you, too,” you sneered. “Even your brother couldn’t come close.”

His fingers threaded through your hair, and he yanked your head back. You let out a yelp. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m nothing like my brother?” He leaned down so his lips were right by your ear. “Why are you so intent on hating me, (Y/N)? Do I not take care of you? Do I not bathe you, keep you well fed, and give you a nice home? Do I not shower you in gifts and dress you in clothes that cost more than some people’s rent?”

“That’s not… love…” Your voice was strained from the position your head was bent back at. “You treat me… like property…”

He tugged again, and you let out a cry. “You _are_ my property, (Y/N). You belong to me, and I love you. I take care of you. I treat you better than Bruce or Jerome ever could have!” His voice shook with anger.

“You… hurt me…” You lifted your hands to the one buried in your hair, but his grip was too strong. “You… violated me…”

“And did I not make you cum every time I did so?” Your cheeks turned red at his words. “You can’t deny it, (Y/N). Not even to yourself. I make you feel good.” His free hand ran down your exposed thigh. “I know exactly how to make you feel good.”

Your eyes widened. “No! Please!”

He ignored you and attached his lips to your neck. He sucked on the sweet spot just beneath your ear, and you made a noise of surprise. It was still sensitive from the hickey he had previously left there. He pulled your legs further apart and trailed his hand up your thigh. He cupped your pussy, the heel of his hand brushing against your clit.

A breathy moan escaped your lips, and you reached down to wrap your fingers around his wrist. “Stop, Jeremiah. Please.”

He pulled away from your neck. “Why do you even bother, (Y/N)? You know I won’t stop, and I know you want this just as much as I do.” His fingers rubbed around your clit. “You want to cum again. You’re desperate for that release only I can give you.”

You wiggled your hips, though you weren’t sure if it was to get away from him or to get closer to him. “I want to taste you.” He licked the shell of your ear and slipped a finger inside of you at the same time. You gasped. “Tell me you want it. Tell me you want it, and I’ll give you more.”

He pumped his finger in and out of you, and your hands on his wrist loosened. “Never.” You tried to sound firm, but there was no hiding the lust in your voice.

“Never?” He chuckled. He added another finger, stretching you. “So you do want it, you just won’t admit it? Your pride is getting in the way.” He curled his fingers, hitting that spot inside of you, and you clenched around his fingers. “I think you’ll find your need for the pleasure I can give you will win out every time.”

You felt that familiar pressure rising in your gut. You took your bottom lip between your teeth and leaned your head back on his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut. Just as you were about to cum, he pulled his fingers out of you. Your eyes shot open, and you whined as the building pleasure simmered to pain and dwindling disappointment.

“Don’t you want my tongue on you? To cum all over my mouth?” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Just say the word, love, and you’ll have it.”

Your chest heaved up and down. You knew you should continue to refuse him, but if you gave this to him, if you gave in just a little bit, maybe you would start to earn his trust. You’d be that much closer to making an escape. And isn’t that what this was all about? You tried to leave the growing arousal between your legs out of your decision.

“Fine!” Your voice suddenly sounded deafening. “Okay, I admit it. I want it.” Jeremiah jerked the hand in your hair so you were face to face with him. The look in his shocking, green eyes was unforgettable, and the grin on his lips was predatory.

_Bruce, forgive me…_

He pushed you back on the bed and climbed on top of you in a second. “All I needed was a yes,” he teased before pressing his lips to yours. His hands were at your sides as he licked at your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You granted it to him. His tongue sought out yours as he pushed your dress up over your hips.

He broke the kiss. “I don’t need to tie you up this time, do I?” He pecked your jaw. “You won’t fight me?” His lips left a trail down your neck, over your collarbone, and between your breasts. You shook your head, flushed. “You know I need words, darling.” He kneaded your breast in one hand as he continued to work his way down.

“No.” Your voice was light and airy.

“Good girl.” He pressed one last kiss to your navel as he settled between your legs. He looked up at you, and the sight of his piercing green eyes staring at you as he hovered over your cunt was enough to renew the fire in your loins.

He spread you apart with his fingers and licked a stripe up your slit. A shudder of pleasure ran through you, and you exhaled. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he swirled the tip of his tongue around your clit. You subconsciously spread your legs wider when you felt his finger at your entrance. He pushed it inside of you, and your lips parted.

He gave one more lick to your clit before pulling away. “You taste so good.” He thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling them so they hit your g-spot each time. “I can’t wait to make you cum.”

You moaned in response. He closed his lips around your clit and sucked. You reached down and threaded your fingers through his red hair. You tugged on the short strands, and he groaned, sending vibrations through your pussy. Your orgasm was fast approaching, and all it took was one more pump of his fingers to tip you over the edge.

You let go of his hair and twisted the sheets in your fists as you came. You let out a high-pitched mewl, and he continued to finger you through your high. When you finally came down, your body went limp. He lapped up all your juices like he needed them to survive, and when he was done, he sat back on his heels and sucked the taste of you off of his fingers.

“Next time, you’re sitting on my face,” he said.

“Okay.” You hated how weak you sounded.

He curled up on the bed next to you and pulled you into his side. “I love you, (Y/N).” He rubbed your back soothingly while entangling your legs. “I love you so much. You have no idea.”

You rested your head on his chest and stared up at the ceiling. You were going to have to do something desperate, and soon.


	16. Chapter 16

You were sitting on the bed, reading a copy of _Wuthering Heights_ Jeremiah had given you to keep you entertained when he wasn’t there, when the door opened. You looked up, expecting Ecco, but you were surprised to see Jeremiah poking his head in the room.

“Hi, darling,” he said with a large grin. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “I know I’m here earlier than usual, but I got something for you.”

You narrowed your eyes when you noticed he had his hands clasped behind his back. You put your book down on the side table and shifted so you were sitting cross-legged. He took a step closer to you. “Are you ready?” He quirked a brow.

You nodded, and then after a second, murmured, “Yes.” You kept forgetting that he wanted you to verbally answer him.

“Close your eyes.” You clenched your jaw before letting your eyes flutter closed. You heard his dress shoes slap against the concrete floor as he drew closer to you. “Now hold out your hands.”

You did as he said. A small object was placed in the center of your palms. It felt soft, like it was made out of velvet. “Okay. Open!” Your eyes popped open and you looked down to see a small, black box in your hands. You looked up at him, confused. “Go on. Open it,” he encouraged you with a wide smile.

You lifted the lid on the box to reveal a necklace. It had a thin, gold chain with a small, dainty, diamond pendant in the middle. Even in the dim light of the room, it sparkled and shimmered with rainbow fractals. No doubt it was the real thing.

“Well, do you like it?” He stared at you with round, green eyes. He looked like an eager, little puppy.

“Yes.” You forced your lips to curl into a smile. “It’s beautiful.”

“But not as beautiful as you, my dear.” He sat down on the bed in front of you. “Here, let me help you put it on.”

He took the box from you, and you turned around. “I thought I would reward you for being such a good girl for me the other day.” He moved your hair out of the way. “You keep it up, and you’ll be out of here in no time.” He clasped the necklace around your neck. “Turn around. I want to see.”

You faced him again, and you had to admit, he had good taste. The diamond laid flat against your collarbone and refracted every beam of light that hit it. His eyes shined almost as brightly. “Gorgeous.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “See? Is it so bad when you give in to me?” His hand drifted down to caress your face. “I make it worth your while, don’t I? I take care of you.”

He leaned in and connected your lips. The kiss was surprisingly soft and gentle. His lips moved against yours, and you leaned into the hand on your cheek. He pulled away and whispered, “I love you, (Y/N).” You froze up, unsure of what to say. “It’s okay; you don’t have to say it back.” He brushed his nose against your cheekbone. “Just know that no one else can love you like I do.”

He kissed you again, his hands moving down to your hips. He pulled you into his lap, and you placed your hands on his shoulders. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you found yourself kissing him back. He groaned and pulled you closer to him until his chest was flush with yours. _Wait. What am I doing? This is wrong. He kidnapped me. He’s keeping me here against my will. He wants to destroy Gotham!_

Just as you were about to pull away, the watch on his wrist beeped, and he did it for you. He glanced down at his watch, the corners of his lips twisting into a frown. “I’m sorry, dear. It looks like something came up with my work.” He slid you off of his lap and onto the bed. “I promise I’ll come back as soon as possible and pick up where we left off.” He shot you a wink.

He left the room, making sure to close the door firmly behind him. You just sat there on the bed, frozen, staring at the door with wide eyes. You couldn’t stay there another second. You just couldn’t. It was like he was in the air, and with every breath, he infected your lungs and poisoned your veins and infiltrated your brain. You wanted to scream and cry until your face turned red and claw at your throat to get him out. It didn’t matter what you had to do. You didn’t care as long as you got out of there, and you knew you had to do something desperate.

Something _very_ desperate.

You jumped off of the bed and walked into the bathroom with determination. You stopped in front of the full length mirror and took in your reflection. You looked a lot healthier than you had days before: the bruises were fading to brown and yellow, your hair was clean, and a brand new diamond necklace was hanging around your neck. But there was no mistaking the look of fear in your eyes. It would only increase every day you spent in here, or worse, go away.

Your vision narrowed in on the diamond pendant. You wondered what your mother and Bruce were doing. Were they looking for you? Did they know where you were? Did they know that Jeremiah had taken you? You doubted they did, and you couldn’t wait on them any longer. You had to take fate into your own hands.

You ripped the necklace off of your neck and hurled it at the mirror with a shriek. The diamond made direct contact with the mirror and split it down the middle with a deafening crack. It splintered off into little crevices that reached the edges of the mirror. You screamed and punched it with your fist for good measure. It exploded into a thousand pieces, shards of glass raining down on you. You cried as you felt them puncture your skin and looked down to see crimson leaking out of cuts all over you. The white hot pain was too much and you collapsed in a heap on the ground.

You didn’t know how long you laid there for, surrounded by bits of shattered glass, before you heard the door creak open. “(Y/N)?” You easily recognized it as Jeremiah’s voice. His tone started out normal enough, but quickly grew thick with uneasiness. “(Y/N)!”

Through your blurry gaze, you made out a large chunk of glass on the ground. You reached out with a weak hand and grabbed it. You ignored the sting as it sliced your skin and tucked it in the waistband of your underwear before he entered the bathroom.

“(Y/N)?” His face fell when he noticed you on the floor. “Oh, my God!” He scrambled over to you and kneeled down next to you. “Oh, my God, what happened?” He looked at the broken mirror to the shards of glass to your bloody body. “What did you do?” he murmured. You expected to see anger in his piercing, green eyes, but there was only concern.

He scooped you up in his arms. “Don’t worry, (Y/N). I’ll fix you.” He lifted you up, and you groaned. “I’ll make you better.”

Your vision was so fuzzy now that you could barely make out red hair and a pale face above you. You let out a squeak every now and then when the shard of glass dug into your hip. You could feel your body being carried, and then the cold metal of a table as you were set down. His hands were off of you, and you figured he was collecting supplies to clean you up. Your head lolled to the side, and you blinked a few times before an object came into focus. It was a map.

But not just any map: a map of the maze.

It wasn’t too far away, just barely out of reach. If you could just buy yourself some time, you could snatch it and make your way out. Your attention was drawn from the map when Jeremiah returned. “Okay, I’m going to have to stitch you up. It might hurt a little bit, but this should help.” You felt his cold hand on your shoulder while the other brought a bottle to your lips. You took a whiff, and the stench of alcohol burned your senses.

You wrinkled your nose and tried to swat the bottle away. “Please, just one drink?” He pushed your hand away and pressed the bottle back against your lips. “For me?”

You knew you couldn’t drink it. Your health was already too impaired that escaping was barely a possibility. _All well. Guess it’s now or never._ You squirmed until your hand slipped up your dress. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice the motion. You grasped the shard and summoned every ounce of courage within you before sinking it into his shoulder with a shout.

He roared and stumbled back, clutching his offended shoulder. He lifted a hand and stared at the ruby red blood coating his palm. Without a second thought, you scampered off of the table and grabbed the map. You quickly realized you were back in his lab and limped over to the door. You glanced at the map to see that the door to the lab was marked and a thick, red line was traced from it to the exit: your way out. You followed the map and made a right turn.

“(Y/N)!” he called after you, and you soldiered on. You weren’t very fast, but now neither was he thanks to the glass imbedded in his shoulder. “(Y/N), honey, come back, please!”

You ignored him and kept your eyes trained on the map. It was surprisingly easy to navigate the halls with a guide in your hands. “(Y/N), I’m giving you one last chance to stop running and come back to me!” Your body felt like it was on fire from all of the cuts, but his words merely fueled your desire to escape. “(Y/N), get back here now!”

You turned a corner, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw a neon purple sign proudly proclaiming the word _EXIT._ A smile broke out on your face, and you rushed forward with renewed strength. You could practically taste your freedom. _Mom, Bruce, I’m coming…_

Suddenly, a sharp pain blossomed from your neck and spread out to the rest of your body, incapacitating you. You let out a bloodcurdling scream and dropped to the concrete ground, writhing and clutching your neck. The pain slowly subsided, but your limbs still felt too stiff to move. You heard footsteps drawing closer and opened your shut eyes to see two feet clad in black dress shoes stop in front of you. You looked up to see they led to long legs and Jeremiah’s upside down face.

“I’m sorry that it came to this, dear. I really did give you every chance I could to turn back, but I can’t let you leave.” The look in his green eyes was frightening.

“What… did you… do to me…” you breathed out between pants.

“Just a little failsafe I had installed while you were sedated.” He held up a sleek, silver remote. “Think of it as a shock collar, except you can never take it off.”

Warm tears rolled down your flushed cheeks. “You’re a monster!” you sobbed.

He squatted down until the blank expression on his face was inches from you. “I have to say, I’m really disappointed in you, (Y/N). I thought we were making progress, but it looks like we’re back to square one.” His fingers curled around the shard of glass in his blood-soaked shoulder. He barely flinched as he pulled out, tossing it carelessly aside. “But the way you stabbed me… now, that was really something. Maybe you’re more twisted than I thought.”

You gathered as much saliva as you could and spat right in his face. You were horrified to see that it was red. He clenched his jaw and collected your spit with two fingers before sticking them in his mouth. You grimaced as he sucked, humming as he did so.

He popped his fingers out of his mouth and grinned down at you. “Now, let’s go patch you up, shall we?”


	17. Chapter 17

Just when you had started to recover your strength, you were once again on bed rest. Your body had stitches here and there from the broken mirror and blue and purple bruises. You couldn’t sleep anymore, forming dark circles under your eyes, and completely lost your appetite. But worse than all of the physical effects were the mental ones. You only spoke when absolutely necessary now and did everything in your power to stay in his good graces. You felt paralyzed with fear knowing that he could cause you harm without even touching you. Escape seemed impossible.

Jeremiah was more cold and distant towards you. He still took his liberties: he kissed you, spent the nights with you, still insisted he loved you, but it wasn’t the same. All of his actions were calculated, like he had thought them out beforehand, and he was more cautious. He was careful not to slip up around you. It was like he had said: you were back at square one.

You didn’t look up when the door opened. You could tell who it was just by the weight and sound of the footsteps. “Hello, (Y/N).”

You stared down at the white duvet and picked at a thread. “Hi, Jeremiah.”

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.” His grave tone made you look up immediately, and your eyes met his shocking, green ones. “That’s better.” His scarlet lips curled into the smallest smile. “The preparations are almost complete. Bruce Wayne is coming by later to see the engine.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. _Bruce…_ Maybe there was still a chance you could get out, a tiny sliver of hope? “You mean…” you trailed off.

His grin grew wider. “My plan to take over Gotham will soon be enacted. All that’s left,” he squatted down in front of you so your eyes were at the same level, “is you.” He reached out and pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your chin. “Which leads to the important question I have to ask you.”

His gaze burned a hole in you, but you didn’t dare look away. “Yes?”

“Do you know the myth of Hades and Persephone?”

You quirked a brow. “Yes.” The amused look on his face fell. He looked taken aback, stunned into silence. “Did you expect me to say no so you could launch into some long, villainous monologue?” You couldn’t help the smile that came over your features.

He shot daggers at you. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, love.” He stepped away from you. “In case you’ve forgotten, Hades took Persephone to the underworld and offered her a choice: she could eat the seeds of a pomegranate and stay bound to the underworld forever, or she could return to the land of the living with her mother, Demeter.” He tilted his head to the side. “You ultimately know what she decided. She became the queen of the underworld and spent six months a year with Hades.”

“So… that’s the important question? If I know some basic Greek mythology?” You couldn’t stop the unimpressed tone from sneaking into your voice.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “No, this is.” He reached in the pocket of his suit pants. “I want to offer you the same choice.” He pulled out a small, metallic cylinder. It had a nozzle and looked like some sort of spray. “Turns out my brother’s serum wasn’t completely useless. I was able to make some simple adjustments, fine tune it a little bit…” His cold stare switched from the spray to you, his lips curling into a smirk.

Your eyes widened in realization. “No…” You scooted back on the bed as far as you could until your back hit the wall. “Please, don’t!”

“Relax, dear.” He let out a small, airy laugh. “This is a part of your choice.” He held it out to you. “You can spray yourself with this and stop pretending to be someone else. You can set yourself free, free to be the true you you’ve hidden deep down inside, to cater to every dark whim and desire you’ve ever had. Then, you can spend the rest of your life with me, and we’ll rule Gotham side by side together. I’ll continue to take care of you and provide for you.” His expression turned glum. “Or I’ll let you go. You can walk out of here and go back to living the life you had before I found you and took you in.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. You could leave? No, it was too good to be true. It had to be some sort of trick. “And you’ll remove the thing from my neck?” you tested him.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out the remote that controlled the implant in your neck. He dropped it to the floor and crushed it under his foot, smashing it to smithereens. “And I’ll remove it too,” he added.

You clenched your jaw. “How do I know I can trust you?”

He walked over to the door and pulled it wide open. “The door is wide open.” He came back over to you and took out a map. “And here’s a copy of the map of the maze.” He set it down on the bed in front of you. “As soon as you decide to leave, you’re free to do so.” He held the spray back out to you. “So? What do you say?”

You focused on the silver cylinder in his hand. You hesitantly reached out and took it, your fingers brushing against his cold ones. You stared down at the object, so small and harmless in your palm. You knew the obvious choice was to leave, to run away as far as you could, but you couldn’t stop your thoughts from straying to what would happen if you chose otherwise. You would finally be free, in a sense. Free from responsibility and fear. Free to embrace your past and let the darkness you’ve been hiding from for so long consume you, let it seep in and fill all the gaping holes in your soul. So what if it was bad? You wouldn’t know the difference anymore. The line between good and evil and dark and light would be blurred and there would only be… you. It would be nice.

And you wouldn’t have to be alone, either. You looked up at Jeremiah, at the hopeful look on his face. He would always be by your side, you were sure of that. His obsession for you was unwavering, despite how twisted and disturbed it was, and you could always count on him to be loyal. You’d never have to be afraid of losing him…

Then, your thoughts turned onto a boy with chocolate brown eyes and jet black locks, pale pink lips turned up into a small smile. How could you leave Bruce like that? Everyone in his life had let him down except for you. You had been there for him since the beginning, the one stable, constant thing in the tumultuous storm that was his life. Jeremiah might love you, but Bruce was deeply, irrevocably in love with you. His devotion to you was pure and simple and made all the hell the two of you went through bearable and worthwhile. And your mother, your friends? You couldn’t leave them behind either, even if it meant struggling with the darkness inside of you for the rest of your life.

“No!” you yelled and threw the spray at his feet. “I can’t do it!” You hugged your knees to your chest and rocked yourself back and forth, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You looked up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “We don’t have to live this way, Jeremiah, immersed in darkness and fear. We don’t have to cut all the good things out of our lives just to deal with the shit we’ve gone through. We can rise above it. We’re strong, much stronger than we think we are.”

The light drained from his eyes, and the blank expression on his face made your blood run cold through your veins. He reached down and picked up the small spray can. “Of course, there is the version of the myth where Hades chooses for Persephone,” he spoke slowly in an eerie monotone.

Before you could register his words, he sprayed the can right in your face. A purple mist clouded your vision and filled your lungs. You coughed and hacked violently, and with every intake of breath, the substance filled you more and more. You felt like you were suffocating, and you fell back on the bed, writhing and twisting in the sheets. It was like you were on fire, and you scratched at your skin like you were trying to peel it off. You grabbed at your hair and gnashed your teeth, tearing out some strands. The air filled with your screams, and all you could see was purple when you opened your eyes.

“I’m sorry, dear, but I thought you would make the right decision.” You could barely hear Jeremiah’s voice over the sound of your agonizing shrieks. “I won’t stand by and watch you throw away everything we’ve done together just because you can’t see things the way I do. That can be fixed.” His glassy, green eyes pierced through the purple haze. “I won’t let you make that mistake.”

Suddenly, all of the pain faded away, and you collapsed on the bed, heaving. Your body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and you blinked rapidly, clearing the purple blocking your vision. You slowly sat up and looked around. Everything was in technicolor, and that sinking, empty feeling in your gut you had fought against for so long crawled out and spread to every limb of your body. It was like something had been unlocked inside of you and set free.

“Are you alright, dear?” He reached out and caressed your cheek. “I know the transformation can be painful. Unfortunately, that’s inevitable.”

You took your bottom lip between your teeth. “I’m okay.” You leaned into his warm touch.

He smiled. “Good girl.” He smoothed out your hair. “You understand why I did what I did, don’t you? I had to do it for us to be together, so you could become who you were always meant to be.”

You nodded. The things he was saying just sounded right. “Yes.”

“You’re not mad at me?” He cupped your face with his hands, his lips pulling down into a pout.

You shook your head. “No.”

A small smile graced his features. “Good.” He ran his thumbs over your cheekbones. “I don’t know what I would do if you were mad at me. I love you so much, (Y/N).”

The corners of your lips tugged up into a smile. He seemed so inviting, so comforting. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, have his arms around you. “I love you, too, Jeremiah.”

His eyes lit up at your words. He leaned in and kissed you. “Say it again,” he whispered against your lips.

“I love you,” you said before he connected your lips again in a passionate kiss. You bunched the fabric of his shirt in your fists and pulled him closer to you. His hands drifted down to your sides and grabbed at your waist.

He separated your lips and rested his forehead against yours, his breath fanning your face. You closed your eyes and brushed your nose against his, desperate for any contact with him you could get. “I’m so glad you think that, darling,” his voice was breathy, “but there’s still something in the way, something that, I’m afraid if it’s not dealt with, will continue to get between us.”

You moved your hands to his hair and raked your fingers through the red strands. “I don’t want anything to come between us.”

His hand trailed up to caress your cheek. “Then you know what you have to do, don’t you?” The tip of his nose brushed against your cheekbone. The look in his green eyes was irresistible. “What you have to do so we can always be together?”

You nodded. Your lips lifted into a wide smirk, and you met his deadly gaze straight on.

“Kill Bruce Wayne.”


	18. Chapter 18

You knew Jerome was coming for you. All day the news had shown nonstop footage of the Maniax throwing people off a rooftop, dousing a bus in gasoline, taking over the GCPD. The last part had chilled you to the core. Seeing Jerome dressed in a police uniform, ruby red blood gushing from his nose, you couldn’t help but feel like his wild, crystal blue eyes could see straight through the camera to you on the other side of the screen.

You knew Jerome better than anyone else, probably better than you knew yourself, so it was only a matter of time before he showed up. And when you got home and saw an open window in your bedroom, white curtains billowing in the wind, your whole body tensed up.

“Jerome?” You spun around, surveying your bedroom. It was dark, the only light coming from the moon and the stars in the sky outside. “I know you’re there.”

As you expected, the redheaded boy stepped out of the shadows and into the center of the room. He was dressed in all black and had his hair slicked back. “Hiya, sweets!” His lips curled into a wide grin. “Miss me?”

You took a step back, your shoulders bumping into the wall. “What do you want, Jerome? Why are you here?”

“Well, you visited me all those months in Arkham. I thought I would return the favor.” His chest rumbled with laughter. When he saw the unamused look on your face, his laughter ceased. “Fine, you caught me, doll! I wanted to catch up about everything that’s happened since I last saw you, you know, before I escaped.”

“How’d you get out?” You stayed against the perimeter of the room.

“A mysterious benefactor that I can’t tell you the name of, but he’s got big plans for us.” He walked closer to you. “He thinks I’m going to be a star.”

You glanced behind him. “Did you bring anyone else with you?”

“Just you and me, peach.” He stopped so he was right in front of you, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I had something very special I wanted to talk to you about alone.”

You swallowed roughly and shifted your weight between your feet. “What?”

“Come with me.” He reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. “We’re going to kill my father tomorrow, sugar, and I want you to be there to see it. I don’t want you to miss out like you did when I killed my mom.” He tilted his head to the side. “Then, after all this is over, you and I can find your dad and kill him, and we can travel across the country liberating others and torturing the ones who deserve it.”

You furrowed your brow as you stared at him. “That’s crazy, Jerome.”

Something snapped within him, and his smile faltered. “I’m not crazy.” He moved forward so you were trapped between him and the wall. “Didn’t I prove it to you all the times you visited me? I just have a different way of thinking,” he caressed your cheek with his free hand, “one that you can relate to.”

You pressed your hands against his chest to push him away, but he merely pushed back, squishing you further against the wall. He grabbed both of your hands in his and pinned them on either side of your head. “Jerome, do the right thing,” you said through gritted teeth. “Turn yourself in. If you ever…” you trailed off and stared down at the buttons on his shirt, too afraid to meet his eye.

“If I ever what, dear?” His grin widened. “If I ever loved you? I always thought you were too afraid to say that word to me.”

You felt your eyes start to water. “If you ever cared about me as much as you said you did, you’ll go down to the GCPD.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’ve already been to the GCPD.” His face was an inch from yours now. “Haven’t you been watching the news? It’s a mess down there.”

“If you think all of this chaos is going to bring you happiness, you’re going to be bitterly disappointed.” Your voice cracked with emotion.

He pursed his lips. “Hmm, you might be right about that.” He let go of one of your hands to trace your jaw with his finger. “But that’s why I have you, princess. You made all those months at Arkham the best moments of my life. I counted down the minutes until your next visit,” he lifted your chin so your eyes locked with his at last, “because I love you, (Y/N), so very, very much.”

He closed what little distance was left between your lips and kissed you. Tears sprung from the corners of your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. His lips moved against yours, and he ran his tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You granted it to him, and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, quickly gaining dominance over you. You melted into the kiss. It was surprisingly gentle, but still had enough fire behind it to be passionate.

When he pulled away, you were out of breath. He leaned his forehead against yours, his warm breath fanning your face. His pale skin was flushed pink, and you decided that was the prettiest he had ever looked, with his eyes closed, long, dark lashes brushing the freckles spattering his skin. “Say it back,” he whispered, his nose barely grazing yours. “Say you love me too.”

His other hand dropped from yours to run up your side, gathering the fabric of your shirt in his hand. You cupped his face in your hands. “I love you, J.” Your voice was shaking and so were your hands. “But you have to let me go. If you really do love me, if I ever meant anything to you, you’ll listen to me. You’ll turn yourself in, and you’ll let me go.”

His eyes snapped open, and you stared into the cool blue of his irises. “Okay,” he murmured. His hands moved down to grip your hips. “I’ll let you go, even if it kills me.” Suddenly, he stepped away from you, all warmth leaving your body. “But I’m not turning myself in. I can’t. I’m meant for bigger things than that circus, (Y/N).” He clenched his jaw. “Even if that’s not you.”

His usually cheery tone and glimmer in his eyes were completely gone. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen him so serious. You stared at him, your chest still heaving from the kiss, and if you didn’t have the wall to lean back on, your knees would’ve buckled, causing you to collapse. “I’m sorry, Jerry.”

“Please, don’t apologize.” He raised his hand to swipe at his cheek, and that’s when you noticed the tears start to fall. “You’re already making this harder than it has to be.”

You stood there, speechless. You were unsure of what to say, so when you gathered enough strength, you pushed off of the wall and walked over to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your head in his chest, pulling him close to you. He lazily draped his arms over your shoulders and rested his chin on top of your head, sniffling.

“God, you’ve got me crying, princess.” He laughed. “The things you do to me.” He ran his fingers through your hair. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamt of this moment? Of breaking out of that place so I could see you outside of that dumb visitation room and hold you without handcuffs on? Only for you to tell me to leave… It’s funny, really. Comedy gold.” He chuckled.

You laughed too, the sound muffled by his chest. The fabric of his shirt was now wet with your tears, and you felt like someone had a hand wrapped around your heart and was slowly squeezing more and more every second. He lifted his chin off of you, and you looked up at him.

“Will you tell Jim Gordon I was here?” he asked, nothing but pure adoration in his crystal blue eyes.

“No,” you answered honestly. That would only raise questions about his connection to you, and you really didn’t want to have to answer those, not now, not ever.

“Thank you.” He caressed the side of your face again. “Can I have one last kiss before I leave?” His voice was soft.

You nodded, and you both dove in at the same time. Your lips met in a fiery kiss, hungry and starving and full of the wasted months and the words you wish you could say but you didn’t have time to. When you finally separated, you found yourself wishing the kiss had lasted longer.

“All I ever wanted was for you to love me,” he whispered. “Maybe now that I have that, I can be satisfied.” He stepped out of your embrace, his blue eyes taking you in one last time. “Goodbye, sweets.”

You watched as he walked over to the open window. He climbed through it and sat on the windowsill. Just as he was about to jump down, you stopped him. “Jerome, wait!”

He looked over his shoulder at you. “Yes, doll?”

Your mind raced with things to say. _Don’t go. Take me with you. It doesn’t have to be this way. Don’t do this._ But you knew you were only stalling so you could get one more moment with him. Words wouldn’t change anything, and some things were better left unsaid.

“Be safe, okay?” You bit your lip, red and swollen from all the kissing. You guessed, more than anything else, you wanted that for him.

He chuckled softly. “Anything for you, dear.” His teasing smile returned to his face. “What’s the saying? Parting is such sweet sorrow?” You nodded, and he gave you a salute. “Ta-ta, toots. Take care.”

He disappeared over the ledge, and you rushed over to the window. You stuck your head out and gripped the windowsill, your knuckles turning white. You watched him dash across the lush, green garden towards the fence enclosing the grounds of your estate. Oddly sad, oddly sweet. Part of you longed to go with him, but you knew things were better this way. You were heading down two different paths, and you needed to close this chapter and move on, focus on Bruce and your mother. Even though you couldn’t be the one to save him, all you could do was hope he came to his senses on his own.

When he climbed over the fence and disappeared on the other side, you retreated from the window. You stood in the middle of your room for a while, feeling emptier than ever, and when you finally went to bed, you left the window open to appease the small part of you that hoped he would change his mind and come back.


	19. Chapter 19

Bruce ran through the linoleum tiled hallways. “(Y/N)?” he yelled, his voice bouncing off of the walls. He knew she had to be here. After searching for her for weeks, it only made sense now that Jeremiah had taken her. “(Y/N)!”

“Hello, Bruce,” he heard Jeremiah’s monotone voice say over the speaker.

He looked up at the ceiling. “Jeremiah?”

“I imagine you’re wondering, ‘Why is Jeremiah doing this?’” his prerecorded speech droned on. “My brother once said, ‘All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy.’” Suddenly, up close images of Bruce’s girlfriend bloody and beaten were projected onto the walls, and the air filled with her screams. “Jerome gave me what I thought was the worst day of my life, but only by losing everything was I able to face what was inside me.”

“(Y/N)…” he murmured, watching helplessly as sparking wires were pressed to the side of her head. Her body convulsed as electricity ran through her.

“I’ve learned that to free it, you have to lose everything and everyone you hold dear.”

So that was what this was about? He was trying to turn Bruce insane? He wouldn’t let it get to him. But as the footage of her being tortured continued, his pulse started to race. Time was running out. He had to hurry.

He started running through the halls blindly, desperate. His heart was hammering so hard he thought it would burst out of his chest, and the image of her being punched, cut open, and shocked was burned into his brain. “No!” he shouted over the sound of her shrieks. “No!”

He pushed through two double doors at the end of the hall and skidded to a stop when he took in his surroundings. His girlfriend was strapped to a chair in the middle of the room, a single overhead lamp shedding light down on her slumped body. Her hair had fallen over her face, concealing it from him. Scalpels, drills, and other devices of torture were spread out on a table next to her.

“(Y/N)?” he raced over to her, kneeling in front of her body. He scrambled to undo the leather restraints keeping her in the chair. “(Y/N), wake up!” He pushed her stringy hair out of her face and lifted her head.

Up close, he could see all the damage done to her in those videos in person. Nasty, jagged cuts littered her face, and one eyelid was swollen and blossoming with a blue and purple bruise. Scarlet blood leaked out of a cut on her forehead and trickled down her face and all over her body. Fresh tears welled in his eyes at seeing her in this state. He could only imagine the suffering she had endured, the one person he had always sworn to protect no matter the cost, and he had been powerless to prevent it.

After a second, she started to stir, and his heart fluttered. “Hey, (Y/N), it’s me.” He cradled her face in his hands. “It’s me, Bruce. You’re safe now.”

Her eyes slowly opened. “Bruce?” She cracked the smallest smile.

“I’m so sorry.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her limp body into his chest. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

She lifted her weak arms to hug him back. “Thank you, Bruce.” She pulled back so she was staring him in the face. “Thank you for making this so easy.”

He furrowed his thick brows, and next thing he knew, she head butted him in the face. He stumbled back, surprised, and struggled to regain his balance. She rose from the chair with ease, rolling back her shoulders. She reached up and peeled the cut on her forehead off, revealing it to be a prosthetic. She grabbed a napkin off of the table and wiped away the blue and purple makeup that was the bruise on her eye.

“Jeremiah sure did go all out, didn’t he? Didn’t he do such a good job with the makeup?” She tossed the used napkin aside. “And what about my acting? Though, I have to admit, not all of it was faked. But I don’t mind suffering for my art.”

He clutched his throbbing head. “(Y/N), what’s going on? What happened to you?”

She rolled her eyes. “I know this is going to be hard for you to understand, so I’m going to try to explain it as quick as possible.” She placed a hand on her hip. “After Jeremiah took me, I was putting up such a fight that he did me a favor.” Her lips curled into a sinister grin. “Jerome’s serum may not have worked on him, but it was good for other things.”

He felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. “No,” he murmured. He walked over to her and grabbed her shoulders. “(Y/N), I don’t know what Jeremiah did to you, but you can’t let him win. Let me help you.”

She clenched her jaw and kneed him in the gut. He groaned and doubled over in pain. “God, Bruce, could you be any more predictable? All ‘let me help you’ this and ‘don’t let him win’ that.” She landed a solid kick to his chest, and he crumpled to the ground. She stood over him and scowled. “I thought you’d be harder to beat. It’s kinda pathetic, to be honest. Disappointing.”

He rolled over onto his back and stared up at her. “Why did you bring me here?”

She squatted down next to him. “I need a clean slate. Jeremiah is convinced you’ll come between us, and frankly, I agree. So unfortunately, that means you have to go.” She swung her leg over so she was straddling him. “Shame. We did have some good times, didn’t we?”

Her fist connected with his nose, and blood immediately started to gush out of him and stream down his face. So, that was Jeremiah’s plan. He wasn’t trying to drive Bruce insane. He was trying to drive her insane. “(Y/N), this isn’t you! Can’t you see? This is Jerome’s serum talking. Jeremiah is trying to make you crazy!”

Her eyes widened. “Crazy?” She leaned her head back and cackled, the sound echoing inside the room. It sent shivers down his spine at seeing her so demented. Her laughter ceased, and she stared down at him, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Crazy is just doing what you want without being afraid of the consequences.”

She threw another punch, and he could feel more of the red, warm liquid drip down his face as static filled his ears. “Stop, please!” Tears leaked out of his eyes, mixing with his blood. “(Y/N), I love you!”

She stopped her assault. “Oh, Bruce.” She raised her hand, and he flinched, thinking she was going to hit him again. Instead, she cupped his cheek, strangely gentle. “I love you too. Or at least I did, once. I loved Jerome once, too.” She retracted her hand. “But something came loose in my brain. Jeremiah set me free. I think I need to return the favor and love him now.” She reached up and grabbed a scalpel off of the table. “I appreciate the sentiment, really. No hard feelings?”

Just as she was about to stab him, he reached up and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. Her eyes widened, and an amused smile came over her face. “There we go!” Her knuckles turned white from gripping the scalpel so hard. “See? Isn’t this so much more fun when you fight back?”

His arm started shaking from holding her back. His grip on her wrist loosened slightly, and she slipped out of his hold. Bruce dodged out of the way just as she brought the scalpel down, and she stabbed it into the floor instead. He flipped them over so he was the one straddling her, and he restrained her hands above her head.

She pursed her lips. “Well, this isn’t how I saw this going.” She grinned up at him. “But I can’t say it’s not entertaining.”

He grabbed her shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh. “Stop it, (Y/N/N). Snap out of it!” He shook her roughly. “I can’t lose you too.”

“Face it, Bruce.” Her eyes flashed with madness. “You couldn’t save me.”

Anger rose inside him unexpectedly, and before he knew what he was doing, he brought his hand down on her.

Her head fell to the side, and the skin on her cheekbone split open. Blood ran off of his chin and dropped onto the crimson leaking out of the new cut on her face. He blinked rapidly, a wave of guilt quickly replacing the anger that had come over him. “(Y/N), I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry!”

She stared up at him, slack jawed, before the corners of her lips tugged up into a smirk. “God, wasn’t that a rush?” Her eyes sparkled. “I wish you would’ve shown me how rough you could be when we were together.” She winked.

She burst into laughter at his shocked expression, and he felt rage bubble inside of him once more. He landed a blow to her face, and another, and another, until his knuckles were bruised and stained with her blood. He didn’t stop until she was no longer laughing. He sat back on his heels and wiped the sweat from his brow, his chest heaving up and down. He chanced a glance down at her under him: her head lolled to the side, her face was coated in a thick layer of sticky blood, and her eyes were closed. His stomach flipped. She didn’t look like she was breathing.

“(Y/N)?” He leaned back over her and cupped her face. “(Y/N), are you okay? Please answer me!” He felt around for a pulse. “I’m sorry! Please don’t die! Please don’t die on me!”

He finally found her pulse and let out a sigh of relief. Although it was weak and did little to calm his fears, she was alive, and currently that was all that mattered to him. He got off of her and stood up. He bent down, scooping her up in his arms, and carried her out of the room bridal style. He wouldn’t give up on her, he _couldn’t_ give up on her. He would do whatever it took to save her. Maybe, it wasn’t too late.


	20. Chapter 20

“Good evening,” Lee Thompkins spoke into the mic once the music and applause had died down. “I am Dr. Lee Thompkins. For the past five years, I’ve had the honor of being part of the Children’s Hospital. Thank you for your support, and thank you so much for coming out tonight. Over the years, we’ve had magicians come and entertain our children, and so tonight, we have one of the magicians here for you. Without further ado, please allow me to present to you,” she looked down at a slip of paper in her gloved hands, “the Great Rudolpho.”

You clapped along with the crowd and snuck a glance over at Bruce beside you. He stood rigid, dressed in a tux with a stoic expression on his face. You let out a small sigh. You knew he hated coming to these benefits, not because of the events themselves, but because of the people who attended them. He didn’t want to be around these people who used to be friends with his parents and now looked at him with pity in their eyes for the poor orphan boy. You laced your fingers with his and gave his hand a squeeze. He turned his head to look at you, a small smile gracing his lips.

The spotlight moved from Lee over to a woman dressed in a sparkly, pink costume, a mask concealing her face. She opened the doors to the blue and yellow checked cabinet behind her, revealing it to be empty. She looked at the audience and gasped before closing the doors. They laughed as she opened them again, and this time, a man with a brown beard that was clearly fake and a top hat stood inside, yawning. He stepped out of the cabinet and struck a pose, receiving a round of applause.

“Greetings, ladies and germs! I am indeed the Great Rudolpho,” he said in a melodramatic, foreign accent before bowing. He gestured to the woman beside him. “Please ogle my lovely assistant.” She curtsied with a flourish.

You squinted your eyes and tilted your head to the side. There was something oddly familiar about the magician, which made no sense, because you had never seen him before in your life. But something about his charm and his flair struck a cord within you, like you had seen it many times before. You shook the feeling off and focused on enjoying the show.

“For my first act, I’ll require a volunteer. Let me see…” He turned his face away from the audience and pointed out into the crowd. “Duck, duck, duck, duck, duck, duck, duck… Goose!”

The spotlight focused on Bruce, and everyone swiveled in their chairs to look at him. He visibly froze up, glued to the spot. You knew the only thing he hated more than watching a show was participating in one. “Go on, Master Bruce.” Alfred knocked his shoulder into his. “Be a sport.”

When he still looked unsure, you looped your arm through his. “Don’t worry, B. It’ll be over before you know it,” you encouraged him.

He let out a shaky breath and nodded. You stepped away from him as the magician’s assistant approached, outstretching a gloved hand to him. He tugged on the lapels of his tux before taking her hand and allowing her to lead him to the stage.

“Hello, young man.” The magician looked down his nose at Bruce. “Please.” He motioned to a box on a table. They helped Bruce into it and closed the lid, leaving only his head sticking out one side. “Does this handsome gentleman have a name?” The magician grabbed two giant, silver blades, the edges glinting in the stage lights.

“Bruce,” he mumbled.

“Bruce!” the magician repeated louder. “Well, Bruce, this won’t hurt a bit.” He hit the blades together with a reverberating _clang._ “Is there a doctor in the house?” He held the blades threateningly over the box as the audience laughed.

Your heart started beating a little quicker, but you pushed your worries aside. Apparently, Alfred was the feeling the same as you, because he stepped forward and called out, “I’m sorry, can you just… just wait, wait one second!”

The magician smiled at Alfred before sinking the blades into the middle of the box. The assistant rolled Bruce’s lower half away as a trumpet sounded, giving the illusion that he had, indeed, been sawed in half. “Give them a wave,” the magician instructed Bruce.

He turned his head to the side and waved at the audience, a forced smile on his face. You walked over to Alfred and hooked your arm through his, shooting him a reassuring smile. The two of you retreated to your original spot in the back of the audience. The assistant reassembled the box before flipping the lid and helping Bruce out in one piece.

“Some people say Bruce has a split personality,” the magician joked, and the audience laughed.

The assistant brought Bruce back over to you and Alfred. “Very good, Master Bruce,” Alfred congratulated him, and Bruce offered him a nod in return. The assistant blew him a kiss before going back up onstage.

“For my next illusion, I’d like to call to the stage esteemed Deputy Mayor Harrison Kane!” the magician announced.

The mayor rose from his seat, and the assistant walked over to him. The audience clapped as she brought the mayor up onstage. She rolled a table to center stage and pulled off the tablecloth, revealing a row of sharp throwing knives. The magician picked one of them up and inspected the pointy tip. He shifted his gaze to the audience.

“By the way, nobody here is getting out alive,” he said with a smile. The words were said so smoothly and with so much charisma that the audience easily laughed them off, but for some reason, a chill ran through you. You threaded your arm through Bruce’s and pulled him close to you, watching in anticipation as to what the man would do next.

He threw the knife, and it landed with a solid thunk into the mayor’s chest. You furrowed your brow, and murmurs of confusion spread throughout the crowd. The mayor clutched the handle of the knife and groaned, and screams rose from the audience as he collapsed on the floor. You and Bruce looked at each other, realization sinking in that this wasn’t some trick, _this was real._

Gunshots rang out, and you snapped your head to see the waiters firing assault rifles at the ceiling. “All right, you two, time to leave.” Alfred grabbed onto both of you and started ushering you towards the exit. One of the waiters blocked your escape, and Alfred let go of you to start grappling with him.

Bruce intertwined his fingers with yours. “(Y/N), this way!” He dragged you along behind him as he ran towards an empty table. He ducked down and pulled you underneath the table, the long tablecloth concealing you from the waiters and the performers onstage.

Maniacal laughter rose above the sounds of gunfire and shattering glass, and your blood ran cold through your veins. You could recognize that laugh anywhere. You got on your hands and knees and lifted the edge of the tablecloth to peek out. Onstage, the magician had gotten rid of his ridiculous disguise, revealing his red hair and pale skin and crystal, blue eyes…

_Jerome._

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” You looked over your shoulder to see Bruce staring at you, his eyes filled with concern.

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as you struggled to come up with something to say. “You know those escaped Arkham inmates that have been all over the news? The Maniax?” you asked, and he nodded in confirmation. “I think these are them.” Well, at least it wasn’t _technically_ a lie.

His eyes widened, and he reached for your shaking hand. “Hey, everything’ll be okay.” His expression was dead serious. “I promise.”

You nodded, but if there was one thing you knew about Jerome, it was that whatever he had in store was absolutely sinister. Silence settled over the room, and both you and Bruce peeked out of the tablecloth to watch what was going on. Jerome and his assistant, who you now recognized as Barbara Kean, brought out Lee and strapped her to a large, spinning wheel. Jerome took her phone from her and dialed a number before holding it to his ear.

Whoever was on the other end picked up, because Jerome said, “Sorry, Jimbo, it’s just little old me.” Your heart skipped a beat. _Jim Gordon?_ “Are you outside? You are, aren’t you? Oh, goody.” He laughed. You couldn’t hear what Jim was saying, but you knew it wasn’t good. “Breathe, James. I haven’t touched a hair on your girlfriend’s pretty head. See for yourself. This is live television, after all.”

A waiter came forward holding a camera on his shoulder. Jerome and Barbara stood one either side of Lee, posing and smiling for the camera. Lee looked back and forth between them with rage in her eyes and struggled against her restraints. Jerome lifted the phone back up to his ear and listened to whatever Jim said.

“True, but not the point. Hey, let’s talk about what I want.” He walked closer to the camera. “Forty-seven million dollars, a helicopter, obviously, the dry cleaning I left at Mr. Chang’s - be careful, the man is a crook - and, I don’t know, a pony!” He chuckled. “Hurry up before I start killing people. Remember, this is being broadcast to every home in Gotham, so, you know… don’t let people die.” He waved at the camera. “Bye!”

He leaned in close so his face was inches from the lens. He raised the phone to his mouth and cackled directly into the speaker. Then, he snapped it shut and tossed it carelessly to the side. He stood up straight and turned his back to the camera.

“I think that went well,” he murmured.

“Enough!”

Everyone’s head turned to see a man stand up. He wore a maroon suit and had black, slicked back hair. “You need to pack up your pathetic little sideshow and leave,” he continued.

Jerome shoved his hands in the pockets of his suit pants. “Is that right?” He grinned maliciously.

“It may be presumptuous to speak for all the citizens of Gotham, but we are sick of you.” He moved towards the stage. “You’re a small, vicious man with a pathetic need for attention.” He stepped up onto the stage, and Jerome gave a small bow. “Enough, man. For God sakes, enough.”

Jerome held up a finger. “I’m curious what your leverage is here, Mr…”

The man looked into the camera. “Theo Galavan.”

“Well, Mr. ‘Theo Galavan,’” Jerome imitated his low voice, “if you don’t sit down, I’m gonna shoot you in the face.” He patted his cheek condescendingly before walking past him.

Theo’s gaze followed him. “I know there is some human decency left in you.” Jerome turned to face him and pointed at himself. “If you need to take a hostage, take me, but let these people go home, to their families, to their children!” he boomed.

Barbara hit him over the head with a mallet, and he crumpled to the ground. She rested a hand on her hip. “Boring.” She rolled her eyes.

“Right,” Jerome agreed. You pursed your lips. There was something so corny and canned about it all, like you were watching one big illusion. Your thoughts turned onto other things as the redhead said, “Well, I think it’s time for tonight’s first official victim!” He grabbed the mic off of the stand and held it up. “You all know and love, poor rich boy, parents murdered in an alley, and my favorite volunteer. Where is Bruce Wayne?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on edge. You and Bruce looked at each other, and you pulled him away from the edge of the tablecloth. “Don’t,” you hissed.

He furrowed his thick brows. “(Y/N), I have to. He’s going to hurt someone if I don’t go out there.”

“He’s going to hurt _you_ if you go out there.” Your grip on his hand tightened. “Please, Bruce. Don’t.”

“You know I’m an orphan too, Bruce?” Jerome’s voice drew your attention. “I killed my parents, though. Where are you hiding?” The sound of your heart racing filled your ears. Bruce wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. “Bruce!” Jerome’s voice echoed inside the large room.

You squeezed your eyes shut, and Bruce held you closer. The only sound was of your shallow breathing, and you were paralyzed with fear, afraid to move a muscle in case he or one of his lackeys heard you. “Where are you, buddy?” You could hear the impatience and frustration seeping into Jerome’s tone.

“Kill his butler,” Barbara barked.

Your eyes widened, and you twisted around in Bruce’s arms to see the panic rising in his eyes. You clutched his arms, your nails digging into the sleeves of his tux. “Don’t,” you mouthed.

“Come on! Move it, butler!” You heard the shuffling of feet, and both you and Bruce returned to the edge of the tablecloth to see Alfred being pushed forward by one of the waiters brandishing an assault rifle.

“All right, last chance, Bruce,” Jerome warned, “but it’s about to get very butler-brainy out here.”

Bruce’s hand clapped over your shoulder, and you turned to look at him. “Stay here. No matter what happens, stay here, all right?"

You shook your head. “Bruce-”

“Promise me.” His voice was firm. You could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t going to budge.

“Brucey!” Jerome crowed, reminding you it was only a matter of time before he put a bullet in Alfred’s head.

“All right, I promise.” You took his hand off of your shoulder and squeezed it. “Now, go.”

“I’m bored. Shoot the butler,” Jerome commanded.

Bruce slid out from under the table and got to his feet. “Stop!” he shouted. He ran towards Alfred and barely got his arms around him before Jerome grabbed him by his collar. He yanked Bruce back onto the stage and wrapped an arm around his middle, holding him still against him.

“Let’s get this started, huh?” A sick smile spread over Jerome’s face as he pressed the blade of one of the throwing knives to Bruce’s throat. Your pulse started to race at a million miles a minute.

Suddenly, more shots rang out, and you turned your head to see Jim entering the ballroom through a curtain and shooting at the waiters. Alfred elbowed the waiter holding him in the throat, freeing himself. Jim threw a pistol in his direction, and Alfred swiftly caught it, joining Jim in taking down the waiters holding everyone hostage. Once they were taken care of, they aimed their guns at Jerome.

“Drop the knife!” Jim ordered. That inspired a burst of hysterical laughter from Jerome, and he didn’t move the knife from Bruce’s neck. “I don’t have a clean shot,” Jim told Alfred.

“Stay calm, Bruce,” Alfred assured him, but you could see the worry in his eyes.

“It seems like we’ve got ourselves a pickle.” Jerome started to get antsy, and the blade in his hand just barely grazed Bruce’s throat, splitting the skin and creating a thin line of blood. “What do you say, Brucey boy?” He leaned down to whisper into his ear, “Wanna boost our ratings, huh?” He changed the angle of the blade so the tip was piercing his skin. “Smile!”

You crawled out from under the table and jumped to your feet. “No!” you screamed, and everyone’s attention was diverted to you.

Tears welled up in Bruce’s eyes. “(Y/N), no…” he murmured softly.

Jerome’s smile vanished as he stared at you, and you could tell by the look on his face that he was just as confused as you were. It was like some cruel twist of fate, having both of the boys you loved in the same room only for them to attack each other. You didn’t want Bruce to get hurt, but at the same time, you didn’t want Jerome to get hurt either.

“I said enough.”

Jerome didn’t get a chance to respond as he let go of Bruce and whirled around to see Theo standing behind him. In a flash, Theo stabbed him in the neck, and the audience gasped. Your heart stopped beating in your chest.

_No._

Bruce hopped off of the stage and ran to you, wrapping you in his arms. But you barely paid him attention as your eyes remained glued to the pale boy slowly sinking to the floor.

_No!_

You broke away from Bruce and dashed towards Jerome. “Get away from him!” You shoved Theo, and he stumbled back, taking the knife with him. The stream of blood pouring out of Jerome’s neck increased tenfold now, staining his white, dress shirt and pale skin. You kneeled down next to him and cupped his face. “It’s okay, Jerome. I’m here.” You shifted so he was laying in your lap. “Can you hear me? Jerome, can you hear me?”

He choked on his words for a second. “Loud and clear, princess.” He coughed and sputtered, ruby red blood dribbling down his chin. “Well, this isn’t how I saw things going.” You laughed slightly, tears slipping down your cheeks, and you wiped them away with the back of your hand. “Why are you crying, sweetheart? Shouldn’t you be happy?”

You furrowed your brow. “Why would you think that?”

“All I ever did was cause you pain,” he stared up at you, eyes half closed, “and now you’re finally rid of me.”

“I don’t want to be rid of you.” You grabbed his hand and held it against your heart. His skin was way too pale, paler than it should ever be. “Please don’t leave me, J.” You whispered, “I love you.”

His breathing started to slow. “That’s all I ever wanted.” His lips curled into a small smile. “All I ever wanted…” He wheezed.

“It’s okay, Jerome.” You caressed his cheek. “You can let go, now. It’s all right…”

You watched as the brightness slowly faded from his crystal blue eyes. He laid there in your arms, completely still. You couldn’t remember a time he had ever been so quiet. It wasn’t fair; he didn’t deserve to die. Sure, Jerome had done some bad things, but he had the odds stacked against him. He didn’t see any other way, and if he had just had someone to help him, someone to show him a different path, maybe he could’ve turned out different. Because if he didn’t deserve to live… then did you?

Your chest racked with sobs, and you could feel the overwhelming sadness rising in your chest like a dam that had burst. You exploded with shrieks and cries and wails, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. You hugged his body to your chest, dampening the shoulder of his suit jacket with your tears. You knew you were covered in his blood and you knew people were staring, but you were too absorbed in your grief to care. It took Bruce coming over and ripping you away from his body to finally separate the two of you.

It was quiet in the town car as Bruce and Alfred took you home. Bruce tried to ask you about it, but you wouldn’t answer him. You were too exhausted to lie and still covered in his blood. He dropped the subject, and you never spoke about that night ever again.

When Jerome came back to life, he wasn’t your Jerome. He was a perverse, funhouse mirror image of him. He had lost all of his humanity, everything that had made you fall in love with him, and instead became some sort of twisted monster whose mind was filled with chaotic thoughts. So you tried to forget about him, pretend he didn’t exist. You focused on Bruce and your mother and avoided the news.

But you still felt empty, more so than ever. You should’ve known it was only a matter of time before the darkness consumed you too.


	21. Chapter 21

You didn’t expect to open your eyes.

Sure, it hadn’t been a part of the plan, but how poetic it would have been, dying at the hands of your lover. However, you came to, your body aching all over and your head pounding. You blinked rapidly to clear the blurriness from your vision and took in your surroundings. You were laying on a bed in a dark, cold room. The walls were made of jagged rock, and you could hear water trickling. You groaned and tried to stretch your limbs, but you found that your arms were tied behind your back and your ankles were secured with rope. You furrowed your brow. “What the hell?” you grumbled.

“The rope was a precaution.”

You snapped your head to see Bruce step into the light. His nose was bandaged, no doubt from the injury you had caused him. “Smart thinking.” You pursed your lips. “Where am I?”

He started to pace back and forth. “Underneath Wayne Manor. I had Alfred set up a room for you.”

You sat up and looked around. “What is this? Some sort of bat cave?” You snorted at your own joke.

Bruce didn’t look as amused. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You quirked a brow.

He clenched his jaw. “I lost control.”

“Mmm, I know.” Your dry lips curled into a smirk. “Wasn’t it thrilling?”

His expression turned sour. “This isn’t funny, (Y/N).”

“Are you kidding? It’s hilarious!” You laughed. “However, I am curious as to why you took me instead of turning me into the GCPD or, you know, to a hospital.”

He drew his thick brows together. “They would’ve put you in Arkham, and I’ve seen too many people come out from there worse than when they went in.”

You gasped. “You still think you can save me!” You cackled. “God, can you not see I’m already too far gone? Or are you just refusing to see it?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re my responsibility.”

“You think everything is your responsibility: me, Jerome, Jeremiah…” You rolled your eyes. “Lighten up, Bruce! Live a little,” you grinned, “like you did when you were beating the living daylights out of me.”

“That was an accident,” he seethed through gritted teeth.

“But you liked it anyway, didn’t you? Watching the blood flow?” You tilted your head to the side. “I know how it is, Bruce, trying to conceal the darkness. I tried once too. But it always comes out one way or another, whether you want it to or not.”

He took a threatening step towards you. “I’m not crazy, (Y/N). I don’t have this ‘darkness’ Jerome and Jeremiah talk about, and neither do you. This is just that serum messing with your head.”

That earned another round of laughter from you. “Look around, Bruce! You took me just like Jeremiah did because you think you know what’s best for me. He and you are not so different after all.”

Suddenly, he charged at you and grabbed you by your shoulders. “I’m not like Jeremiah!” He shook you roughly, knocking the wind out of you. His eyes widened when he realized what he had done, and he backed away from you like you had burned him.

You cracked a devious smile. “That’s what I’m talking about: all that anger, all that potential. You have no idea how good it feels when that weight is lifted off your shoulders, without things dragging you down.” You tugged on your restraints. “You won’t be able to keep me down here for long. I’ll find a way out.”

“And then you’ll… what?” He scoffed. “You’ll kill me?”

You shook your head. “Oh, no. I’m way past that now.” Your smile widened. “I’m going to unlock that darkness inside of you, just like Jeremiah did for me. Only then will we be able to be together.”

He leaned against the nightstand. “What about Jeremiah?”

You shrugged. “I guess I still love him, but that was a dirty trick he pulled on me, getting me to do his bidding. I’m tired of other people calling the shots.” You rolled your shoulders back. “In the end, we wanted different things. He wanted to control the city, be a god amongst men. I don’t want any of that; I just want to be free.”

He walked over to stand in front of you, and you could see the sorrow in his chocolate brown eyes, all the loss and despair. “You’re not going to be free anytime soon, (Y/N), but I will fix this. I’m going to find a cure.” He reached out and cupped your cheek, his thumb softly caressing your skin. “Then, things can go back to the way they were.”

You giggled. “Now I know exactly how Jeremiah felt watching me.” You leaned into his touch and gazed up at him. “I don’t care what it takes, Bruce. I don’t care if the sun explodes or the planets crash into each other. I don’t care if the apocalypse starts or if Gotham City burns down. I will get what I want.” The corners of your lips tugged upwards into a grin. “I will drive you mad.”

He drew his thick brows together, and he pressed his lips into a straight line. He retracted his hand. “I’ll be back to check up on you soon.” He walked over to the door and opened it. Just as he was about to leave, he looked at you over his shoulder, eyes watering. “I still love you.” His voice was barely audible, but his words still echoed inside the room.

“I know.” Your grin widened. “I’m counting on it.”

He frowned before stepping out of the room and slamming the door shut firmly behind him, shrouding you in darkness. You couldn’t stop the burst of uncontrollable laughter that rose from your throat. Your volume increased, and soon your cackling bounced off of the walls until it was all you could hear. You hoped wherever Bruce was in his cushy manor, he could hear it, too. You hoped he could hear just how happy you had become, and how happy you would soon make him.

**THE END**


End file.
